


Haalvut Do Fin Yuvon Gein

by Kabiki_Kat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Civilian Orana, Evolving Tags, F/M, Fluff, Mercenary Fenris, Original Female Character - Freeform, Original Male Characters - Freeform, Pining, Skyrim AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-05-30 15:03:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6429034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabiki_Kat/pseuds/Kabiki_Kat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by DeenaTweety's Leave an Impression, my attempt at a Skyrim crossover.</p><p>Orana has lived in Helgen since her Poppa was killed in the crossfire of a skirmish, working at the local inn she's able to meet all sorts of people. The green eyed bosmer; Fenris was certainly among the more notable of their clientele. </p><p>When a Dragon attacks Helgen, Fenris carries Orana from the village and the two set out to find something better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited on 9/5/16 for some punctuation and story elements.

The wind swept down from the mountain, bringing with it a small fog of powdered snow as Fenris made his way out of the forest on the road back into Helgen. He had been in Skyrim for the better part of the month, dodging questions and attempting to keep a low profile in the small village. A sudden gust of wind from the mountain left him shivering, the weather had been fair since he had come here but he still couldn’t get used to the chill that even the warmest days the Northern Province held. Living in Cyrodiil for the better portion of his memory had done him no favors in the snow packed wilderness that made up the majority of the country. Fenris groaned internally as he realized it would only grow colder the more north he went.

As he walked along the roughly cobbled roads that lead to the small village he pulled his cloak tighter around himself to ward off the chill, wishing that his armor was less pointed as it ripped through the dark brown of the fabric, though it had served him well in keeping lesser folk away with its imposing appearance. He would need to patch it before he left or risk freezing when he finally moved on.

Crossing under the arch that led into Helgen he made his way towards the inn near the western wall of the village. The village was occupied by Imperial soldiers, they came and went without disturbing the locals as much as possible though as he rounded the alchemist's shop Fenris noticed a dozen archers scattered along the wall. Feeling his shoulders tense Fenris tried to retain his calm expression as he made his way towards the inn. 

The inn had served as his base of operations while he stayed in Helgen; it was clean and warm in the style that most of Skyrim’s inns were, sitting securely between two Imperial towers. It also served as a gathering hall for the locals, where word from the nearby farms and far off holds was traded and bartered for within the walls as much as any good in a busy market. Helgen’s location was the perfect place for traders to stop by on their way to and from Cyrodiil and it was not uncommon for the inn to be booked solid for days at a time.

The inn keeper was a kindhearted Nord who was raising a son by himself; he often had his assistant manage the comings and goings of their clientele. The assistant was a fellow bosmer, and she was small, even for their kind. Orana was known in the hall for her golden hair and a gentle disposition. Fenris had learned her name after the third day of his stay, after she had requested that he venture out into the nearby wood to find some simple ingredients for her to practice her alchemy with. She couldn’t pay him much, but any coin was welcome as far as Fenris was concerned so as the days passed he kept her well supplied in mountain flowers and mushrooms.

When she didn’t have the coin he happily traded her for the potions she had made.

As he opened the door to the inn he was greeted with the smell of pepper, roasted chicken, cooked potatoes and leek soup that Orana had made for the day along with the scents of fresh bread and stale mead. The roughhewn timbers and stone of the place kept the building warm and sturdy, much like its residents.

Looking around the main hall he searched for the fair haired bosmer woman. The inn was near empty this time of day; most of the occupants were out tending to their crops or enjoying what counted as a warm day in Skyrim. As he cast his eyes around the room he spotted her tucked away in the far corner, mixing what had to be the remnants of her ingredients at the alchemy table.

“Good day, Orana,” he called out as he slowly crossed the room, and he noted with a small huff of laughter the way that she jumped at the sudden sound of his voice.

As she turned to face him he was struck by the green of her eyes, a rare trait in a bosmer but one they shared nonetheless and it was enchanting to see such a thing on another mer. Especially with the way that they lit up when she recognized who had called out to her.

“Fenris, good day to you!” she greeted warmly. “I did not expect you back so soon.” Fenris was surprised to note the bit of tease in her voice as she greeted him, when he had first met her she could barely stutter out a thank you to him as he chased off a group of humans that had been bothering her. As the days he had spent in the inn passed she gradually grew more comfortable around him, despite the armor and harsh expressions. Now it seemed she was even comfortable enough to joke with him it was a pleasant notion. 

He came to a stop just in front of her, nearly caging her in between the alchemy table and himself as he did so. From this distance he could smell the mountain flowers on her fingers and see the slight flush at the tips of her ears.

“I thought it best to keep you well stocked, your healing potions have been improving and I had hoped to purchase more from you,” He said lowly, keeping his voice in a near whisper despite the near emptiness of the inn, just to see the way that her blush spread across her cheeks in the candlelight.

For three years he had been on the run from Danarius and for three years he had never met another person, mer or otherwise, as gentle hearted as Orana. At first he had sneered at her gentleness, for it seemed to be borne of innocence and naivety. However he soon recognized in her eyes the same bitter pain that haunted his own and learned from the few scattered conversations they had held with each other that she had experienced a great deal of loss and hardship herself but refused to allow it to break her kindhearted attitude. He could see it in the way she grew tense around the Imperial soldiers and flinched when the archers came in with their bows, it was the only time he had seen the innkeeper serve a table rather than Orana.

The fact that he was able to experience her kindness firsthand was disarming and often left Fenris without a point of reference to draw from in the interaction.

“You’re in luck then, friend!” She smiled, turning around and reaching for a small sack near the table. As she opened the sack Fenris saw that it was full of bottles of different colors with different symbols.

“Dabbling in poisons now are you?” Fenris asked, holding a small bottle up to the light. It had what looked to be a nightshade flower drawn on it.

“Oh, well, yes,” Orana mumbled. “You had brought me some nightshade and when I combined it with some of the red mountain flowers the smell alone nearly made me sick…” As she trailed off Fenris smiled at her, sliding his pack from his shoulder and digging around for the bundle of different flowers and mushrooms he had found this time.

“Be careful with your experiments Orana, I don’t want to come into town one day only to hear that you’ve poisoned half the village.” He made sure to keep his tone light and teasing so as not to make her feel guilty.

The half smothered giggle was the best thing he had heard all day.

“I’ll do my best” she promised.

They bargained and haggled over how many potions Orana would give in exchange for the ingredients Fenris had gathered. Orana insisted that he take as many as he wanted, while Fenris argued that she had to make coin somehow. In the end he ended up with a half dozen healing potions and three poisons stowed away in the bag he had slung over his shoulder.

When they had finished trading, Fenris left the inn to see if he could scrounge up any work from the locals while it was still light, wary of the arches patrolling the wall and noticing an executioner's block in front of the centermost Imperial tower. The amount of work had dwindled as he spent more and more time in the village chopping wood and running errands for the residents. Fenris wondered if it was time to move on and seek work in the other holds; Helgen was drying up and if word around the inn was true, Falkreath wasn’t known for its high crime rate or dissatisfied residents.

No, it was probably best for him to head north soon, especially considering how close Helgen was to the Cyrodiil border.

Lost in his thoughts, Fenris failed to hear the sound of approaching hooves, so it wasn’t until he smelled the horses that he looked up and saw a full detachment of Imperial soldiers making their way into Helgen. The horses were pulling carts of people and near the gates rested what looked to be a few high ranking members of the Imperial Army.

With a quiet hiss, Fenris slowly turned away, trying not to call attention to himself as he recognized the Thalmor among the soldiers. As far as he was concerned the Thalmor were no better than the Imperials they ruled. If anything the sharp eyed Altimer were even more insufferable than any member of the Imperial Council.

They could not be here for him --an escaped ‘friend’ to a high ranking Imperial council member was of little concern to the army -- but Fenris had retained his freedom by developing a healthy sense of paranoia. And it wasn’t as if his brands were a common sight.

Moving quickly back the way he had come, Fenris slipped into the inn and headed directly for the back corner where Orana still worked.

“Orana, I must beg of you a favor,” he hissed as he came up behind her.

Orana jumped at the sudden feeling of warm breath across the bare skin of her neck and the deep hiss that accompanied it. Feeling her face heat she spun around to see Fenris staring at her intensely. Feeling much like a rabbit caught in a wolf’s gaze, Orana could do nothing but stare back at him, and thankfully he continued before she made a fool of herself.

“I cannot be found by the Imperials, they would drag me back to Cyrodil and hand me over to a corrupt noble as a house pet. I need a place to hide, quickly!” He was almost too quiet for Orana to hear, even though he was barely inches away.

Feeling her face flush Orana recalled the words her Poppa had instilled in her before he had passed away; “Always look out for your fellow mer, Orana; the nords may allow us to live here but many would do their best to cause us grief.” With her father’s words in mind she managed a nod and grabbed Fenris’ hand, dragging him to the rear end of the inn and into her room.

“In here,” she said, closing the door behind her and tossing Fenris’ bag into her wardrobe. “They will not look for you under my bed.” Fenris nodded and slid underneath the rough wooden frame, pulling a dagger from his boot as he braced himself under the bed while Orana took a seat by the room’s only window.

She watched as the prisoners were lined up and stifled a gasp when one tried to run and was downed by an archer. She could hear him cry out as he fell. Shaking at the ease the soldiers demonstrated with killing, Orana felt her heart race and limbs grow weak.

A knock at her door startled her out of her shock.

“Excuse me, I need to speak with the occupants of this room,” came a brash voice from the other side of the door.

Still shaking, Orana got to her feet and staggered to the door. Bracing herself against the frame she opened the rough wooden door and was immediately greeted by the face of a weathered but stern nord in Imperial armor. The look of shock on his face as Orana revealed herself was almost enough to make her let out a breathless laugh.

“My lady, are you well?” he questioned with cautious concern knitting his brow, Orana nodded weakly.

“Yes, I will be fine. I am just--” she paused to take a deep breath, “--a little shocked by the e-executions.” The nord man took in her wide, green eyes and blood drained face.

“It is rare to find someone so gentle of heart this far north,” he murmured. “My lady, we are on Imperial business. One of our scouts said that she saw a bosmer fitting the description of a Cyrodiil fugitive enter this building.”

The fear that bloomed on Orana’s face was genuine, though not for the reason that the nord would first assume. If she could not play this right, Fenris would be in serious trouble.

Fugitive or not, she had never known Fenris to be anything but polite and well spoken. His sometimes quiet or surly demeanor were not borne of malicious intent, she was positive.

“I-is he dangerous?” Orana stuttered, thinking quickly. For once she was glad for her nervousness, if she could play the ‘concerned citizen’ maybe she could make it through this.

“Very, according to our reports. He has white markings across his body and white hair, have you seen him?” The nord's voice was gentle, clearly feeling a little sympathetic towards the small bosmer woman shaking in her shoes.

“He came to stay at the inn, I bought ingredients from him to practice my alchemy.” Orana started shaking harder, not needing to act afraid due to the fact that the more she spoke the more she worried she would out Fenris.

“Have you seen him today?” the soldier prodded gently. Orana looked him straight in the eyes.

“He came in to trade some simple healing potions for ingredients today, I’ve not seen him since he left.”

The soldier’s face grew pensive for a moment as he considered the situation in front of him; if he brought her to his captain she would want to take the young woman in for further questioning. Further questioning was never a pleasant experience for anyone, they would destroy this gentle woman. 

With his decision made he reached out and gently cupped Orana’s shoulder, startling her as he kept his expression calm.

“Listen to me lass, don’t tell anyone that you traded potions with the fugitive. It could put you in serious trouble, best keep it to yourself. I believe that you wouldn’t hide someone so dangerous and I’ll tell that to my captain.”

“Will you be in trouble for doing such a thing?” Orana truly did not want this man to suffer for her lies. The nord gave Orana a wide smile.

“Even if I did, what could they do? Shave my head and send me back to boot camp?” Orana let out a startled giggle as he passed a hand over the shorn sides of his hair, there wasn’t much left to shave. “Stay safe lass,” he said as he turned away from her and left the inn.

As she closed the door, Orana allowed her knees to go out from under her. She took deep steady breaths, trying to convince her heartbeat to slow down to a more manageable pace. Outside she heard the first telltale ‘thunk’ of the executioner's ax on the block and jolted.

Orana hated the war. She held no love for The Empire and its rules nor for Ulfric and his dismissal of the mer, but all the same she hated the violence and bloodshed the war brought about, the pain and loss of life. This display by the Imperials only furthered that hate.

It was times like this when people lost their families in stupid battles, just like how her poppa had died. Caught in the crossfire of an imperial raid, the Stormcloak’s camp was just down the hill from their farm and when the fighting had drawn closer to their home her poppa had gone out to try and calm the animals.

When he was struck down by an imperial soldier’s bow they simply kept on firing at the rebels until no one moved.

Orana was brought back into the present by a roar sounding over the shouts of enraged townspeople that supported the Stormcloaks.

She got to her feet and wobbled over to the window of her small room, hoping to see what had caused the sound. She heard Fenris shift under the bed as she looked around the square and saw nothing out of place as the next prisoner was being called to the block. An Imperial woman, she was pushed to her knees and as the executioner readied his ax the roar sounded again.

Orana turned from her window, not wanting to see the woman beheaded.

A loud crash sounded from outside the inn, followed by panicked screaming and an ungodly deafening noise.

Whirling around, Orana looked back out the window and cried out at what she saw.

A dragon.

It couldn’t be real. She watched as it took off from the tower and flew around the village, breathing fire on the Imperial soldiers. Stumbling back from her place at the window in panicked denial Orana opened her mouth to call for Fenris, but she could already hear him struggling with something under the bed.

There was a creaking sound coming from above. The timbers above her cracked and Orana looked up only to see them coming down on her, and with a sharp screech she felt a brief flash of pain as one of the beams struck her and everything went black.

***  
Fenris was tense as Orana dealt with the Imperial soldier at the door, relaxing only a small amount when he had left. He heard the distant roars from his position underneath Orana’s bed; any beast that could be so loud was an ill omen. He closed his eyes as Orana puttered around her room, praying to the nine that the Imperials got their business over with and left quickly.

Each roar put Fenris closer and closer to the edge, he could tell it was making Orana nervous as well going by the way her breath stuttered after each one.

The underside of Orana’s bed was clean but stifling, even for him. His sword was likely to be caught in the slats of the frame and he groaned internally; if he had to break Orana’s bed to get out from under it they both would be very upset.

The crash that came from outside followed by screams made Fenris jump. He tried to roll out from underneath the bed but as he suspected his sword was caught in the slats. Growling under his breath he tried to reach around and free himself.

The sudden crashing of wood and Orana’s scream filled the small room. Sheltered by the majority of the debris by Orana’s sturdy Nord made bed, Fenris ripped his sword free, uncaring of any damage done to the underside as he pushed himself out from underneath.

“Orana!” he called out.

She was pinned, unmoving, beneath a fallen beam. Rushing over to her side, Fenris ignited his brands, lifted the wood from her prone form, and tossed the wood aside. The sound of screaming and shouted orders filtered in from outside as Fenris removed one of his gauntlets to press his fingers to Orana’s neck.

There was a pulse; she yet lived.

“Orana, wake up! We must move!” he shouted, gently shaking her. Fenris felt a shiver of fear as he heard the roaring sound again and Orana stayed quiet.

Pulling his gauntlet back on, Fenris carefully picked the bosmer woman up and searched for a way out. The wall where the door once stood had collapsed, and he tightened his grip on Orana as he picked his way across the debris just as a grand, terrible shadow passed over the remains of the inn. Gritting his teeth he ignored the beast for now and ran outside.  
The square was in shambles, bodies littered the ground and the imperial tower that stood as a centerpiece to the village had collapsed. Fenris stood and gaped as he looked up and saw what had caused the damage.

Dragon.

It had to be, no other beast could cause such destruction, and legend or not the beast in the sky was a nightmare made real. A cold horror filled Fenris’ heart, truly there was nowhere safe; he could run from Danarius and his hunters only to be killed by a myth. He had kept his freedom long enough to revel in it and now he would die, caught in dragon fire. A small, pained, whimper started Fenris from his growing dread, and he looked down and saw Orana’s blood streaked face.

They would not die like this.

The dragon was flying overhead, breathing fire on something on the other side of the wreckage. Steeling himself Fenris shifted Orana so that she lay over his shoulder, careful of the two handed sword still strapped to his back, and tightened his grip on the unconscious woman. He took a deep breath and ran.

Flying across the burning square, ignoring the stench of cooked flesh and blood he headed towards the western exit.

He ran down the cobbled road, heedless of anything around him; his only thought was to escape the dragon’s fire before he and his charge were caught in its path.

The road lead downhill, making it easy for Fenris to maintain his sprint as he hurtled down the path. Rocks gave way to brush and flowers, which then gave way to trees and blessed cover.

As the sounds of beating wings, screams and roars faded Fenris allowed himself to slow down. His breath was labored and he stumbled off the path to a nearby overhang, not thinking as he set Orana down carefully on a bedroll.

As his breathing slowed he became aware of a few things; he was in a camp, there was no one to be seen in said camp and finally, he could hear someone coming closer.

“Well ain’t this a surprise!” sneered an Imperial.

“You picked a bad time to get lost, friend,” said the Red Guard next to him.

“One thing right after another,” Fenris growled as he drew his sword, tensing his muscles as the bandits grinned at him.

The imperial was first to fall as Fenris charged at him with a wild roar, bringing his blade down as hard as he could and breaking the imperial’s left shoulder. The other man fell with a choked cough as Fenris turned to face his companions, grunting as an arrow hit him in the thigh.

Distracted momentarily by the pain Fenris failed to notice the Redguard woman charging at him with a blade in her hand. With a yell she swung her blade down nearly catching him in the gut as he batted her sword away with his own.

“Should have stayed in your precious forests elf!” she hissed as she was pushed back. She was much faster than he was, along with the archer that lay just behind the tree line Fenris was having a difficult time avoiding all their blows.

Tensing as he rekindled his brands for the second time that day Fenris punched through the Red Guard’s chest and pulled her in the way of the next arrow. There was a sickening thunk as the arrow hit true into her back. A cry of outrage came from the tree line.

“I’m gonna split your belly like an old woman’s purse!” shouted a Breton woman as she rushed from the trees and swung at Fenris with a dagger.

Taking a step back, away from the crazed woman, Fenris stumbled on the Red Guard's sword, opening himself up for the Breton to strike. A line of red agony sliced its way across his abdomen causing Fenris to cry out in pain.

The Breton smiled and rushed forward to strike again only to have her knife knocked away by Fenris’ blade.

With an enraged roar Fenris swung his sword and took the head clean off the woman’s shoulders. Panting as her body collapsed, Fenris dropped to one knee and pressed a hand to the wound on his stomach.

The woods were silent around him; he could hear nothing save for Orana’s shallow breaths and his own labored breathing. Grunting as he pushed himself to his feet, Fenris stumbled over to the nearest corpse and startled rifling through their pack.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he muttered as he pushed bottles of ale and lock picks aside. He let out a triumphant bark of laughter when his fingers closed around what he had been looking for: the healing potion was weak but it stopped the worst of the bleeding in his gut.

The taste was bitter and hard to choke down but he didn’t stop until the bottle was empty. Now that he was no longer in danger of bleeding out from his stomach he turned his focus to the arrow still embedded in his thigh.

Gritting his teeth, he wrapped a hand around the base of the shaft and pulled it straight out, a cry of pain escaping him as he did so. Still gripping the arrow, Fenris ripped a length of cloth from the bandit’s leggings and wrapped it tightly around his leg.

He stumbled back up to the camp, looking around desperately for another potion, and found one near a chest. Thankfully this time around it was much more potent, and not nearly as bitter. Fenris drank deeply as he felt the wound on his thigh knit itself back together, and by the time he had drained the bottle he wasn’t fully healed but he could stand without pain.

Walking over to the headless corpse, Fenris stripped the body of its armor and pack, tossing them in a pile near the fire pit. With a grimace he picked up the severed head in one hand and grabbed the body with the other, dragging it from the camp and into the forest so as not to attract animals to them while they slept.

He repeated the process with the other two corpses, piling their furs near the fire and throwing the carcasses into the forest. By the time he was finished he had collected a small amount of gold, a half dozen lock picks, enough ale to get stupid on, two iron daggers, three sets of fur armor, a steel battle ax and a steel sword.

As he worked the sky had grown dark, and he used the wood stacked around the wall of the overhang to keep the fire going and lit the nearby lanterns with a bit of flint he had in his bag.

Taking one in hand Fenris moved to the bedroll where he had first lain Orana and checked her over for injury.

The head wound was the most concerning; the blood had matted her hair and acted like a gauze. Other than that she had a few visible scrapes but nothing near to the extent of her head.

Fenris went and fetched one of the pilfered healing potions he had found and uncorked the bottle. Gently maneuvering Orana’s head into his lap he tilted the bottle into her mouth, then using the arm cradling her head he reached around and gently stroked her throat to help her swallow.

As the bottle emptied Fenris was relieved to see the wound on her head knitting itself closed. A quiet whimper escaped from her throat and Fenris had to stop himself from jumping at the sound. Mindful of his armor, Fenris shifted Orana more comfortably in his arms.

“Orana,” he said quietly, praying to the nine that she woke up. “Orana, you must wake.”

The other bosmer groaned and Fenris couldn’t help the relieved smiled that formed on his face as he saw Orana’s eyes flutter open.

“F’nris? ‘ow?” Her words were garbled and hey eyes were a clouded haze of pain and fatigue. As she finished speaking Fenris made a quiet shushing noise.

“A dragon attacked Helgen, you were hurt by a beam falling in the inn, I got you out and we’re on the western road,” Fenris explained quickly. “You have a pretty serious head wound, I’ve already given you a healing potion but can you tell me how to make another for you?”

Orana closed her eyes for a moment; her head was making it hard to line up her thoughts as she processed all that Fenris had told her. Doing her best to concentrate she lifted a hand and focused on her limited pool of magicka. As golden light spilled from her hand she sighed in relief as the throbbing pain in her skull abated.

Mostly healed, but drained, Orana let her arm fall limply to the ground. She realized her position in Fenris’ lap but was too tired to think anything of it. Nor was she able to notice how Fenris had tensed as she cast her healing spell.

Gently placing her back onto the bedroll, Fenris stood and looked around the camp. There were a few rabbits and pheasants hanging on a nearby rack and as he dug through the nearby barrels he found a good stock of cabbage, carrots, and potatoes. Throwing everything in the cooking pot next to the fire he went and fetched one of the least bloody sets of fur armor and brought it back for Orana to use as a pillow.

There was still a twinge of pain in his leg, though he ignored it in favor of making something edible from the pot of ingredients he rightfully acquired.

Orana was hovering on the edge on consciousness, the warmth of the fire and her exhaustion made it hard for her to stay awake, though she was not ready to sleep yet. Time was a blur as Fenris moved around the camp; she could smell the food over the fire and her stomach let out a growl. She hadn’t eaten since that morning and with the excitement of the day her body was beyond ready for a meal. 

The sound of footsteps prompted Orana to open her eyes, not even realizing when she had closed them as Fenris knelt down next to her.

“Do you think you could sit up?” he asked, holding out a wooden bowl filled with something that smelled delicious. Orana struggled into a sitting position, nearly falling back down as black spots overtook her vision but Fenris shot his other arm out and caught her, using it to support her as she righted herself.

“Thank you,” she said weakly as Fenris handed her the bowl, keeping his arm stiffly braced against her back. He nodded in return and waited for her to start eating before he spoke.

“The only settlement near this area is Falkreath, I will take you there when morning comes. It will be safer for you to stay there,” he said seriously. Orana paused as she ate; after Poppa died, working alone for a living in Helgen was hard enough. Now she would have to start all over again.

The thought brought tears to her eyes, and as she tried to blink them away Orana looked up at Fenris and nodded.

“Thank you Fenris, you’ve been very kind to me.” Fenris smiled at Orana tightly; it was the best he would be able to do for her.

As she finished her meal, Fenris took the bowl from her.

“Get some rest, we’ll start out early tomorrow morning,” Fenris said as he guided her back down. While all the surface wounds had healed he didn’t want to take a chance with something like a head wound.

Orana made a tired noise of assent and quickly drifted off.

Fenris kept watch -- the forests of Falkreath hold weren’t known for being full of dangers, but it was best to err on the side of caution. The dark sway of the surrounding forest put Fenris on edge, and with the light of the fire he could not make out anything beyond the tree line.

He made sure to rouse Orana every few hours, just to make sure she woke up each time. Each time he did she whined but quickly submitted to his concerns.Even half awake and likely concussed she knew the dangers that could hide in a seemingly healed wound.

The hours passed slowly for Fenris. After making sure that his remaining wounds wouldn’t get infected he dithered as to how to keep himself occupied. He was exhausted, the day been wearing heavily on him and though he had slept well during his stay at the Helgen inn it couldn’t make up for the trials the day had thrown at him. By the time the sun had started to rise he was ready to pass out and sleep for an age.


	2. Chapter 2

The light of the early morning caused Orana to stir, she was used to early mornings at the inn and felt her internal clock tell her ‘time to start the day’. Pushing herself to a sitting position Orana noticed her head still hurt a little bit and cast her healing spell once more. The dull ache that remained faded quickly and Orana stopped the spell before she drained herself again.

As she looked around the camp she noticed Fenris asleep near the fire with his back propped up against the stone wall. Wobbling to her feet, Orana placed a few logs on the fire and used a bit of flame to rekindle it. Fire was much harder for her to use but she was able to concentrate enough to make it serve.

Placing the cooking pot back over the fire to allow whatever leftovers from last night to reheat, Orana gathered all the scattered food into a small sack and set it near the wood pile.

Going back to Fenris’ side she was careful not to wake him as she took stock of several scrapes and half healed cuts. Worried but not wanting to disrupt his slumber Orana dithered for a moment, unsure as to what to do. A bussing noise suddenly filled her ears and she turned slowly to see a bee right in front of her face.

With a startled gasp she quickly snatched the bug out of the air, with a moment’s consideration she looked around the camp for a small satchel. There next to a pile of blood stained armor was what she was looking for, a little wary of the bloody armor Orana quickly retrieved the satchel and placed the, now dead, bee inside. 

If she was going to have to start over again it would be best to have a trade. 

Glancing around the area showed that there were a number of things Orana could use to make potions. Starting at the nearby bees nest Orana calmly plucked the bees from the air and placed them in her newly acquired satchel.

Fenris felt something was off before he even opened his eyes. 

He could hear footsteps, light and unconcerned, at the edge of their camp. Cracking open his eyes slowly he took in the scene in front of him; Orana standing in the sunlight, her hair catching the rays and glowing as she gathered bees as gracefully as a blooming flower gathers light. 

As he sat there, entranced, Fenris noticed the smell of warm food coming from the freshly stoked fire. His stomach growled but he found that he was reluctant to pull his eyes away, though it wasn’t long before Orana seemed to notice that she was being stared at and she turned to return his gaze.

The relief on her face made Fenris’ heart skip a beat.

“Fenris! Good morning.” She called as she came back up to the camp fire. Kneeling down beside him she lifted her hands as her expression turned to one of concern. “Fenris, since you’re hurt, if you’d like I can heal you?”

Instantly Fenris’ face crumbled into one of rage and disgust, it was enough to make Orana flinch back and drop her hands.

“S-sorry Fenris, forget I asked, I’m sorry.” She stuttered as she started to rise to her feet, catching himself Fenris grabbed her hand and stopped her. 

“Orana, wait.” The fear in her eyes as she held still made his chest ache, “Forgive me, you have done nothing wrong. I would rather not be healed by magic is all.” 

“But you’re hurt!” Orana couldn’t help but exclaim, kneeling down by his side once more. 

“I’ve had worse.” He said with a small smile, trying to keep his voice light. His first memories of agony made the small wound on his thigh seem like nothing. He couldn’t bring himself to explain that to Orana though. 

Pressing her lips into a firm line and knitting her brow, Orana hummed and tried to think of a counter argument against Fenris’ stubbornness. He must have been able to tell the direction of her thoughts because he started to laugh.

“Really Orana, I’ll be fine. Once we get to Falkreath I’ll buy myself a healing potion and be as good as new.” 

While unconvinced Orana nodded, it seemed that she’d drop the issue for now. Fenris slowly stood up, carefully stretching after a night of sitting on the hard packed earth, his stomach growled again so he stepped up to the fire and portioned out two more meals from the pot. The first he handed to Orana.

“Here, eat.” He said as he passed her a roughly carved spoon, “We’ll need to be leaving soon if we want to make good time.” 

“Thank you.” She responded, taking the spoon and digging in. Seems that he wasn’t the only one who was hungry. 

For a moment silence reigned over the camp, the sounds of the wind through the trees and the birdsong did little to pierce the quiet. For once, Fenris found if stifling. He was not normally one who felt the need to fill the air with useless chatter but perhaps the look that still haunted the edges of Orana’s expression was affecting him more than he thought.

“Tell me of your time in Skyrim Fenris.” Came Orana’s voice out of nowhere. 

“What would you have me tell you?” he responded warily. 

“Nothing you wouldn’t be comfortable in sharing, but just…” She paused, searching for the correct words “People that you’ve met that you thought where interesting or things that happened that made you realize how big the world can be. Poppa told me that when you want to get to know a person one of the best way to do that is to listen to the stories they tell.”

Fenris bit back a bitter comment. 

“There is not much to tell. I go where I can find coin and do not often interact with others.” He said truthfully, he knew that telling her that he was being chased by a madman would do nothing for the easy mood she was trying to reestablish between them.

“Why stay in Helgen for so long then?” she asked, there was little coin there and the many of the villagers had been kind, friendly people. 

As Fenris tried to remember why he had stayed for so long, he suddenly understood; Orana. Orana with her kind heart and open smile, who could barely stand to talk to strangers but believed in the best of everyone. If not for the magic that she displayed he would have probably continued to safe guard the young bosmer. 

“I found no reason to leave.” He responded nonchalantly, finishing his meal and tossing the wooden bowl into the fire pit. 

Leaving Orana to finish her own meal he rounded the fire and started packing away the sets of armor he had stripped from the bandits. They wouldn’t fetch too much coin in Falkreath but it would be better than nothing. 

He cast a glance across the fire to see Orana setting her empty bowl at the edge of the pit before re-lacing her boots.

“Hold for a moment Orana.” Fenris said as he dug through the pile of armor, Orana paused and looked curiously at Fenris. Stilling her hands as he rifled through the meager pile of furs.

Quickly finding what he was looking for, Fenris grabbed a pair of fur boots that looked small enough to fit Orana somewhat comfortably. 

“Put these on.” While not quite an order it was clear that he would not allow her to decline the boots. 

Deciding it would be best not to even try to protest, Orana took the boots from Fenris’ outstretched hand. Quickly pulling off her battered boots and replacing them, Orana took a moment to wonder where they came from.

Remembering the wounds on Fenris’ body and the scattered bloodstains around the tree line, Orana thought that it was better that she didn’t think about it.

As she finished lacing her new boots Orana looked up to see Fenris handing her a pair of what looked like arm bands. 

“What are these?” She asked as she took them.

“Bracers, these won’t stop a blade but they’re better than nothing.” Fenris watched as she struggled to fit the bracers around her arms, she was having trouble lacing them tight enough that they wouldn’t slip off. With a sigh he walked over and knelt by her side, brushing her hands away and swiftly fitting them to her arms. 

“Not too tight?” He asked quietly, momentarily distracted by the smell of morning dew in her hair before he remembered the ease in which she had cast. Thankfully she nodded and stayed quiet as he drew away, turning back to his task.

Orana watched as Fenris loaded the packs, throwing the larger pieces of armor and weapons into one while things like gloves and daggers went into the other. She also noted the set of clothing that he packed into the smaller pack, it was far too big for wither of them and she wondered why he would keep such a thing.

Fenris packed Orana’s bag, making sure to keep her load lighter than his since he assumed she was not accustomed too much travel and put the spare set of clothes he had found on the nord man in her pack. He figured that at the very least they would serve as a change of clothes for her to sleep in. Biting back the laughter that threatened to bubble up from the image of her in such a large tunic Fenris scowled and refocused on finishing so they could move out. 

As Fenris finishes packing up, Orana walks around the camp’s perimeter, making sure she didn’t miss any patches of flowers in the area that she could use. As she collected a few sprigs of thistle she noticed Fenris looking at her. The packs were tied and ready to go. 

“What are you doing, Orana?” His face was set in a confused frown.

“I ah, I figured that since I’d be starting over again I’d take alchemy a bit more seriously.” She said as she tucked the thistle into the pouch she had found earlier. “Something to do to make a bit of coin on the side.”

Fenris made a humming noise in his throat and nodded. “We’re in no real rush, if you wanted to take the time to gather plants alongside the road I would not object.” The smile he got in return from Orana nearly made him rethink his stance on magic. Surely the golden glow that came from her had to be from the most divine magic in Tamriel. 

“Come on, we should not linger here too long.” Fenris cleared his throat, rising and crossing the clearing to hand Orana the lighter of the two packs. She took it without complaint and shrugged it on. Thinking for a moment, Fenris dropped his own pack and fished out a small iron dagger, holding it out to her.

“Will I really need this?” She asked quietly, he saw the way her cheeks grew pale and her hands shake. He nodded and pressed the sheath into her hands.

“Divines willing you will not have to use it, but it is best to be prepared.” Slinging the pack over his shoulders, mindful of his armor and sword, Fenris turned to the road and took a few steps. Pausing only when he didn’t hear Orana following.

“Orana, I told you that I would deliver you to Falkreath, have faith.” Satisfied as some of the color came back into her cheeks in the form of a blush, Fenris turned back to the road. This time he heard Orana’s quiet footsteps following quickly until she was at his left side.

Walking along the road Orana and Fenris keep wary eyes to the sky and the forest around them. With the dragon attack still fresh in their minds every hawk circling above is mistaken for a beast of fire and death. While neither of them speak of it they both realize that a good night’s sleep might be harder to attain after this. 

Fenris sighs internally as he adds one more thing to his list of reasons why he can hardly sleep at night.

Though they stay wary, Fenris makes good on his promise and stops frequently to allow Orana to pick mountain flowers and mushrooms growing near the road. Hoping that she can make enough potions to secure a decent living. As she bends to pick a batch of nightshade he finds himself laughing a bit.

“Are you in the habit of poisoning people Orana?” He manages through his chuckling.

“Oh no, not me sir.” She shoots back without missing a beat, “My customers though, they’re the ones to look out for. A bunch of scoundrels they are.”

“Is that so?” His thigh is starting to hurt again as he responds, hoping that Orana is willing to continue to play this game a little longer and distract him from the growing ache in his muscles.

“Yes it is,” She says primly “Why; I’ve actually sold a number of potions to a deadly criminal just recently.” Growing quiet she looked at Fenris seriously, for a moment he dreaded her asking just why he was wanted in Cyrodil but instead she shuffled closer and whispered close to his ear. “Truth be told he is nothing more than a broody mercenary who likes fish for breakfast.”

“Ugh!” With a disgusted face Fenris pulled away from Orana as she laughed, he remembered his first day at the inn when the soup of the day had featured chunks of salmon. He had been too hungry at that point not to eat it but the face he made while he did so made the innkeeper howl with laughter.

They keep their pace slow as Fenris’ injuries make themselves known. He ignores Orana’s concerned looks and keeps pushing them forward well into the afternoon. As the sun begins to set Fenris checks their surroundings for a place to make camp. 

Off a ways from the road he spots a small pond. Motioning for Orana to stay quiet as he moves towards it, Fenris checks the area for animal tracks and footprints.

“We’ll make camp here for the night.” He tells her as he drops his pack, walking towards the pond to wash and re-bandage his leg. “Oh for the love of Talos!” 

Two mudcrabs crawl up from the mud, startling Fenris as he settled at the edge of the pond. Taking out his great sword he quickly cut the creatures down, swearing at being caught off guard by mudcrabs of all things.

As they stopped twitching Fenris turned and made sure Orana was unaffected by the sudden scuffle he had fallen into. Much to his chagrin; she was trying not to laugh.

“I suppose we have our dinner for the evening?” She managed between stifled giggles, nearly losing it when Fenris pulled a face at the prospect of eating them.

“The worst thing about mudcrabs is that they actually taste like mud.” He griped bitterly.

“Really? I’ve never actually eaten a mudcrab.” Orana confessed as she approached the edge of the pond. Kneeling down quietly next to Fenris she placed a gentle hand on the exposed portion of his arm. “How are your wounds?”

Fenris felt his skin crawl at the contact, making him shudder unpleasantly and pull away, gentle as it was he did not like to be touched.

“They are fine, just a bit sore.” He replied stiffly, ignoring the confused and somewhat hurt look on Orana’s face. When she nodded and lowered her hand he felt grateful that she didn’t push.

As they settled down for the night Orana darted around the area and gathered enough sticks and twigs to start a campfire. Using a flare of destruction magic to get the fire going she ignored the look on Fenris’ face in favor of making sure she wouldn’t have to use more than a brief flare to keep it going. 

With the fire soon crackling steadily, she turned to the pond. Her hair and clothes were a mess of ash, dirt and sweat. Taking off her boots, Orana dipped her feet into the pond and picked up a handful of sand to scrub them with. The water was cold but it felt wonderful to wash away even a bit of the dirt that had gathered on her legs and feet.

A full bath would have to wait until they reached Falkreath but she washed herself as best she could in the pond. Spending a large amount of time on her sore feet and splashing in the water a bit, causing Fenris to snort.

“I thought that only younglings played in the water in such a way.” He smirked as he removed his gauntlets and boots, dipping them into the water and scrubbing them down quickly with a handful of sand.

Orana responded by simply kicking water up at him, hitting Fenris in the face as he bent over to wash between his toes.

Spluttering, Fenris shoots a glare at Orana, it would be frightening if he had not been drenched by a second splash from Orana, causing her to close her eyes and laugh. Thinking quickly Fenris looked in the pond and spotted a small fish, shooting a hand out he grabbed the fish and tossed it into Orana’s lap.

Though rather than startling and scrambling out of the pond Orana cried out in excitement.

“Oh! I’ve seen alchemists use fish like this one in their potions! Are there any more here?” 

Resisting the urge to bury his face in his hands Fenris stalked out of the pond and left Orana to her splashing.

“Fenris look! There were quite a few living in the pond, I wonder what sort of properties they have in potions.” As Orana babbled happily Fenris scowled at her, his hair still dripping wet from being splashed.

“I’ll take first watch and wake you in a few hours for second.” He grumbled.  
Pulling one of the bedroll they had found at the overhang, Orana set it down over a soft patch of grass near the fire. Curling herself into a ball she watched the flames dance and listened to the sound of Fenris getting comfortable for his watch.

In what seemed like a blink she was being shaken awake by Fenris, unable to stop the petulant whine from coming out she heard Fenris huff a laugh from under his breath as he pulled away. Standing up and stretching Orana paced the camp a bit to wake up her limbs and settled in the spot Fenris had vacated in favor of her already warmed bedroll.

It seemed whether or not she wanted to she wouldn’t be going back to sleep until her watch was over.

The hours passed slowly as Orana made sure the fire didn’t die down, listening carefully for any movement in the forest around her she heard nothing but the wind passing through the trees. 

Thankfully the night sky was clear of clouds and made tracking the time easy.

After a couple of hours passed and Orana was having difficulty keeping her eyes open she stumbled over to where Fenris laid and gently touched the edge of his cloak.

“Fenris.” She said quietly, her voice cracking from disuse and fatigue. “Fenris, wake up.”

Before she could properly pull her hand away Fenris was wide awake, grabbing for his sword that lay beside him and using his other hand to reach out and keep her still. In the blink of an eye he had gone from a deep sleep to crouching with Orana’s arms locked in a steely grip, sword drawn and panting.

Too shocked to speak Orana started to shake as Fenris quickly released her, a broken “Sorry” fell from his lips as he stood and walked to the fire. Orana sat still for a moment before crawling into the bedroll, trying to ignore the smell of leather and sword polish that clung to the warm fabric.

Despite the shock, Orana found herself falling asleep quickly. 

***

Orana awoke to the sound of birds chirping overhead, a fine layer of dew settled over her and the smell of damp wood filling her nose.

As she sat up she saw Fenris pulling what remained of the food from the overhang out from his pack and handing her a few carrots and an apple. Munching quietly as she blinked her eyes free of sleep Orana allowed herself to take comfort in the sounds of the forest around her.

“Once you finish your meal we’ll head out. Falkreath isn’t much farther and I expect that we’ll be there by the end of the day.” Fenris said without preamble, waiting for Orana to nod before he turned and moved to the pond to refill his water flask. 

Just as Orana finished her meal and stood with her pack she felt a hand slide around her wrist.

“Are you hurt?” Fenris asked quietly, holding her wrist up in a gentle grip for examination. There was no sign of bruising and even if there was, Orana was more than able to heal such things.

“I’m fine Fenris.” She replied as she looked him straight in the eyes, a part of her wanted to push and ask questions but she knew that more likely than not it would push him further away. If he told her anything she wanted it to be in his own time.

Nodding he let her go and turned to the path, keeping his steps slow enough for her to catch up soon after she adjusted her pack.

It was looking to be another sunny day, there was little wind in the trees and the sky was almost totally clear of clouds. The road winded slightly downhill, making their trek all the easier.

It wasn’t until about midday that Fenris felt something was off.

A few hundred meters in front of them was a patch of road surrounded on both sides by sheer cliffs connected by a bridge that crossed perpendicular to the road.

Fenris stopped in his tracks at the sight of it and motioned for Orana to do the same.

He didn’t trust what lay before him and had learned over the years to trust in his instincts to avoid being caught by Danarius’s thugs. Looking around him he saw a dirt path that lead uphill and curved away from the cobble road just enough for them to slip by if they were careful.

Gently taking Orana’s hand he led her up the path, putting a finger to his lips to communicate the need for silence.

Abandoning the dirt path quickly they slipped into the trees and followed the road from above the bridge. Fenris was glad to see that he hadn’t lost his touch; there were two bandits situated on the two ends of the bridge. While normally Fenris would have little trouble with such scum, he had Orana’s safety to think of and doubted that their arrows would keep from her path.

Thanking the Nine for Orana’s naturally light footsteps, Fenris lead them carefully over rocks and logs as they made their way down the side of the cliff out of range from the bridge. Taking a small jump to get back on track he turned and helped Orana down, hindered as she was by the skirt of her dress. 

As they walk down the path, away from the bridge, Fenris takes note of the surrounding landmarks. Promising himself that once he drops off Orana he will return. The next time he passes through the area he’ll be sure to take care of the filthy opportunists. 

The rest of their journey is peaceful, the day is clear and the forest was mercifully absent of more bandits and wolves. 

As they walked along the cobbled road Orana continued to collect whatever useful plants that appeared, even having them stop for a few moments so that she could catch a pair of butterflies at the fork in the road to Falkreath.

By the time they reached the village gates the sun was setting and a chill was coming into the air. The two bosmer followed the main road of the village to the local inn, Fenris shouldered open the door taking in the main room quickly before stepping in so that Orana could follow.

Approaching the counter Fenris grew tense as he noticed the innkeeper was an imperial, while knowing that not all imperials were loyal to the empire he did not want to draw the attention of the hunters after him. 

“Welcome to Dead Man’s Drink, what can I do for you two?” She asked kindly, leaning forward onto the counter and giving Fenris a sly smirk as the low cut of her dress gave him an ample view.  
Ignoring her coy behavior Fenris dug into his coin purse.

“We’ll need a room for the night, two beds if you have them.” He said clearly, the low timber of his voice would sound tempting to most that heard it but Orana could tell that he was annoyed and trying to hide it. 

“Of course,” The innkeeper said “though the only room we have available right now has one bed, it’ll be big enough for the two of you to share.” Orana felt her face grow bright red, the thought of being so close to another person in such a setting, biting her lip she looked to Fenris.

Fenris’ face was impassive, with a quick glance to Orana and a single nod he tried not to allow himself to linger on the flush of her cheeks and the way that she bit her lip. 

“We’ll take it.” He said as he turned back to the innkeeper and handed over the coin.

“Alright then, it’s yours for the day. Let me show you to your room.” She beckoned as she rounded the bar and lead them a short ways to the right side of the inn.

The room was spacious enough with a double bed placed in the middle of the far wall between two end tables. “Let me know if you need anything.” The innkeeper said before turning back to the bar and leaving.

The room was dimly lit by a few scattered candles, with high a ceiling and windows situated near the beams of the roof. Dropping his pack near the chest at the foot of the bed, Fenris rolled his shoulders and moved to the table and chairs near the door.

“You can take the bed for the evening, I’ll be comfortable enough on the rug.” He said as he picked up an apple sitting on the table and took a bite. 

“Are you sure Fenris?” Orana asked, not allowing her blush to abate as she moved further into the room. “I don’t mind sharing i-if you wanted to sleep on something more forgiving than stone.”

“I’ll take the floor Orana.” 

“I-if you’re sure.” She murmured, trying to will the blush on her face away.

All she got in return was a decisive hum as Fenris picked up a loaf of bread that lay in a basket on the table and tore it in half. Holding out the other half to Orana as he bit into his own portion, Orana set down her pack next to Fenris’ and moved to the table taking the bread as she sat down. 

Tired from their journey Orana felt herself drifting in a haze as the events of the past few days settled in. Three days ago she had been in Helgen, preparing the daily soup and changing the bedclothes, happy to have a roof over her head and steady work after losing her poppa. Now she was without her meager savings and belongings, starting over in a village full of strangers.

It made her stomach turn as she chewed on her bread.

As Fenris finished his meal he rose and walked to the door. 

“I shall step out for a moment and allowed you to get settled, there’s a tunic in your pack that you can use as a night dress should you prefer a change of clothes.” With a nod he was out the door, leaving Orana alone with her thoughts.

She finished the remainder of her meal quickly, brushing crumbs off her fingers as she walked back to her pack and dug through it; looking for the tunic Fenris had mentioned. Brushing her fingers over a bit of cloth she pulled it out and looked it over, standing and holding it to her slight frame. 

By the Nine it would be huge on her.

Though it was better than nothing, she thought as she turned to the dresser with a wash basin centered on the top of it. Quickly pulling of her boots and unlacing the bracers she set them next to the dresser and shrugged out of her dress. 

It was filthy after days of sleeping on the ground and traveling but it was the only dress she owned at the moment so she made sure to fold it neatly. 

Standing in front of the basin in just her small clothes, Orana swiftly poured the water from the jug into the basin and heated it up with a bit of Flame. Using a nearby rag she washed herself down as best as she was able before stripping off her breast band and running the rag across her chest.

Satisfied and feeling just a bit cleaner, Orana set the rag near the edge of the basin and picked up the tunic. As she slid it on she reveled in the thick cotton fabric, it settled down nearly at her knees and was blessedly warm if a bit rough on her skin. 

She thanked the Divines for her timing as she heard the door handle rattle as Fenris pushed it open and walked back into the room. Swallowing a squeak Orana bit her lip as she saw Fenris’ eyes go wide at her appearance.

Fenris should have told her that he would sleep outside.

The tunic he had kept for her was open at the top and what would be modest on a nord man exposed a great deal more than what was common for Orana to wear. The sight the low hanging fabric as it draped off of her shoulders and plunged down, barely covering her breasts made Fenris swallow. It didn’t help that she seemed so much smaller and delicate in the massive thing. 

Pushing down the wave of fierce protectiveness that came over him, Fenris turned to his pack, ignoring her blush and the sight of her bared thighs. 

Placing his sword on the floor next to the rug he took the topmost blanket from the bed and removed his gauntlets so he could settle down for the night.

It took a moment before he heard Orana shuffle into the bed. 

“Goodnight Fenris.” She said quietly as she blew out the candles on each of the bedside tables.

“Goodnight Orana.” He replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he closed his eyes. He heard her shuffle onto the side of the bed nearest to where he lay, keeping his breathing steady he waited for her to settle and marveled at how quickly she drifted off.

The last thing Orana remembers before falling asleep was the sound of Fenris’ steady breaths, a consistent in and out that reminded her of waves lapping at the edge of a lake. 

*** 

Orana woke as sunlight filtered through the high windows, her body was sore from the, comparatively, soft mattress. After sleeping on the ground with barely a bedroll for padding, a real bed was almost too decadent for Orana to handle.

Though as she stretched and felt the tunic Fenris gave her ride up a bit, she decided that a little bit of decadence every now and then would not be such a bad thing.

Forgetting herself for a moment Orana let out a breathy sigh of contentment and flopped herself limply on the bed, startling when a scraping sound outside the room brought her back to reality. She sat up quickly, blinking as the blood rushed from her head and left her dizzy for a moment as she looked around the room.

Fenris was nowhere to be seen.

Swallowing the small measure of worry that crept up Orana’s spine she swung her legs out from under the covers and searched for her day clothes. While she wasn’t too keen on putting on travel-stained clothes, the dress she had worn into Falkreath was more publically appropriate than an overly large nord tunic and boots. 

As she got dressed Orana found herself wondering what she would do now, there was no real crisis to keep her focused. Sure she had to make her own way now but there was no sense of danger lurking around the corner as there had been the past few days.

The quiet murmur of people in the main part of the inn and the gentle birdsong filtering through the windows seemed too peaceful to be true after the chaos of Helgen and her journey into the village. 

Securing the laces of her dress she took a breath to clear her mind and walked out of the small sanctuary she had found herself in.

Out in the main room of the inn Orana looked around the edges, hoping to spot Fenris. Thankfully it didn’t take long; he was seated at the table across from the entrance of the inn, sipping from a mug with a plate of baked potatoes and fried ham in front of him.

Orana’s stomach growled loudly as she took in the scent of freshly cooked food lingering in the air. Walking over to where Fenris was seated she was surprised to see that he kicked out a chair for her and as she sat down pushed a second plate towards her. 

“Good morning.” He rasped as she settled in her chair. While Orana knew that he must not have slept too comfortably last night he looked far more rested than he had for their entire acquaintance. 

“Good morning Fenris, well rested suits you.” She responded with an easy smile, blushing as the tips of his ears turned red in the morning light of the inn. 

They ate slowly in relative silence, Orana chastised herself a few times for pushing her food around; playing with it instead of eating. While it was clear to both Orana and Fenris that the other wanted to say something neither of them did for the duration of their meal.

Fenris finished his breakfast and set down his fork, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his fist he gathered himself to speak. Orana had been shifting nervously for the past few minutes and he decided that it was time to stop beating around the bush.

As he took a breath and opened his mouth to speak he was startled when Orana set her fork down with a clatter and suddenly blurted out “Will you be staying in Falkreath?” 

Smirking at the embarrassed flush that came over Orana’s face as she stared down at her plate, Fenris hummed.

“Perhaps for a time while I look for mercenary work in the area, Falkreath is bound to have some sort of lowlifes needing to be put down.” Reaching for his mug of fresh milk he chose to ignore the telling way Orana’s head shot up, eyes glimmering and relieved smiled on her face. 

A few days to make sure that the bandits outside of town where taken care of and take any bounties the jarl had put out for wandering swords like himself.

As he cast a glance to Orana as she finished her meal, taking dainty bites and humming happily now that the tension had been dispelled.

‘Only for a few days.’ He reminded himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to the people who take the time to read this, I'm trying not to let the lack of response to everything I've written so far get me down and write these fics for my own pleasure but it's hard, you know?
> 
> So I hope you at least thought this isn't total crap so far, I'll keep writing and doing the thing, stay tuned for more crap!


	3. Chapter 3

Early the next morning Orana finds herself waking at the sound of the door closing. 

She and Fenris had agreed to share the room for one more night before he set out to Ember Shard mine to take care of the bandits on the jarl’s bounty. Though she did not expect him to leave without saying good bye.

Throwing her legs out from under the covers she searched for the trousers that Fenris had packed along with the tunic and shoved her fur boots onto her feet. After tying a cord around her waist to make sure her breeches wouldn’t fall, Orana opened the door and ran out to catch up to Fenris.

Outside the village was swathed in the dim light of pre-dawn, clouds hung heavily in the sky and a fine layer of misting rain was falling. With no sight of Fenris, Orana ran towards the eastern entrance to the village.

The guard posted there gave her a strange look from under her helmet but didn’t comment on Orana’s appearance so early in the morning wearing what was clearly her night clothes. Orana herself was about to ask the guard if she had seen Fenris leave town but stopped as she was a shock of white hair in the morning dim.

Fenris was walking towards the gate, fully armored in his usual black steel and leather mix with his cloak and sword. While he didn’t look too happy to be out so early as soon as he saw Orana at the gate his expression changed from one of brooding discomfort to one of surprise. Bouncing on the balls of her feet as he approached to keep warm, Orana smiled as Fenris got closer to the gate.

“Good morning Fenris.” She said, her voice cracking a bit from disuse and allowing a yawn to break free. As she spoke Orana noticed Fenris’ face morphing from surprise to confusion.

“Good morning Orana, what are you doing out here so early?” He asked, ignoring the guard’s quiet snort.

Orana ducked her head, feeling a blush creep its way onto her face as she wrung her hands nervously.

“I-I never truly thanked you for keeping me safe and bringing me here, and I wanted to see you off on your trip.” She stuttered, not quite looking him in the eye.   
Not sure how to go about the situation in front of him, Fenris stood still as Orana seemed to gather her courage and raised her head.

“Keep safe on your way to the mine Fenris, and on your way back.” She said quietly. Gasping as she felt fingers wrapping around her fingers, she watched as Fenris brought her hand up to his mouth and gently pressed his lips against her knuckles.

He was mindful of his gauntlets as he brushed his nose briefly against the back of her hand and gently lowered it back down. 

“I shall endeavor to do as you say.” He murmured, finally releasing her hand and stepping away. “Stay safe Orana.” 

As he turned and started walking up the road, he struggled not to turn and catch her eyes one more time. While Orana clutched her hand to her chest. She was rooted to the ground and her hand had never felt so warm. 

She wasn’t sure how long she had stood there, watching Fenris’ fading figure before the guard chuckled.

“Alright now love bug, you better get back inside before you get soaked through.” The trill of her accent made Orana break her eyes from the road and turn to the guard, flushing an even brighter shade of red.

“Oh! I’m n-not-, he’s not m-my-, we’re not…” She stammered as the guard laughed.

“Sure, sure whatever you say love bug.” While her face was mostly obscured by the helmet Orana knew that the guard was smiling at her. 

“My name is Orana, ma’am.” She huffed, forgetting her embarrassment long enough to protest the nickname.

The guard nodded and walked towards Orana a bit, holding out her right hand and grasping Orana’s right arm with a strong shake. Trying to return the gesture Orana found that she could barely wrap her hand around the other woman’s arm.

“The name’s Leena and I’m no ma’am.” Leena said lightly as she let go of Orana’s arm. “You best get back inside Orana, the rain will be coming in heavy soon.” 

Orana looked up at the clouds, Leena was right; the clouds had grown darker and the clear smell of rain was thick in the air.

“Are you going to be alright out here?” Orana asked the guard. Leena smiled from underneath her helmet and nodded.

“I’ll be fine, just get yourself inside so your warrior and I have one less thing to worry about.” 

“H-he’s not-!” Orana started before pressing her lips in a line and nodding. Ignoring Leena’s laugh as she turned back to the inn and trotted down the street.

After taking the opportunity to wash her travel stained dress Orana spent most of her day experimenting in the far corner of the inn, she was glad for the alchemy table situated far from where the villagers gathered to chat during what turned out to be a deluge. At the alchemy table she was able to keep herself from worrying about Fenris too much and focus on learning what would go with what and how to combine them.

Back in the far corner no one bothered her, perhaps they saw the nightshade she had pulled out and figured it best not to disturb her. In any case, by the time she had finished, Orana had a great deal of potions ready to sell to the local shopkeepers. 

After going up to the innkeeper, whose name she learned to be Valga Vinicia, and paying a small fee for using her bottles for potions Orana set out into the rain to find the alchemist’s shop.

The rain was coming down hard as Orana ran through the streets of Falkreath, and while it wasn’t a particularly large village it was still one Orana was unfamiliar with. She soon found herself in a large graveyard, while she mentally noted all the places she could find nightshade Orana started to worry as her tunic soaked through. 

Cursing her luck she trudged back up the hill where she must have taken a wrong turn, looking down both sides of the street she tried to figure out which way to go next, not paying attention as she ran right into what had to be a stone wall.

“What did I say love bug?” The stone wall turned out to be Leena, on her way to the inn after her rotation. She was out of her armor and had spotted Orana looking like a lost fawn wandering in the rain and decided it best not to let the poor girl catch her death.

“Hello Leena,” Orana said politely, recognizing her only by the nickname “I was looking for the alchemist’s shop.” 

Shaking her long red hair Leena sighed, it was a wonder the girl had made it to Falkreath unscathed. Though as Leena thought about it she remembered the bosmer warrior that left early in the morning and the way that he looked at Orana.

“C’mon Orana, I’ll take you there and let you buy me an ale as thanks.” Leena said cheerily. 

Orana felt silly but she agreed, Leena was tall enough that she could shield Orana from the rain and the thought of using a nord as a rain barrier made Orana giggle a little, so she figured having a babysitter was not all bad.

Though she felt even sillier when she realized that the alchemist’s shop was just a stone’s throw away from the inn. After making Orana promise to buy her an ale, Leena left Orana at the door of Grave Concoctions. 

The shop was small but well kept, as Orana entered she heard a “Welcome,” and turned to see a Red Guard woman behind the counter. 

“Don’t let the name of the shop scare you.” She smiled as Orana approached the counter. “My name is Zaria, is there anything I can help you with?”  
“I have some potions here that I’d like to sell ma’am.” Orana held up her satchel as proof, listening to the different bottles clink against one another. 

“Ah, so you’re an alchemist then?” Zaria leaned forward with a glimmer in her eyes. Reaching out for the bag the two women started pulling out the various potions and poisons Orana had made. 

Soon Orana found herself trying not to laugh as she bartered with the red guard woman, for each potion sold Zaria would mutter predictions as to who would buy it and for what. 

Stamina potions for the men in the tavern who were looking to last longer than ten seconds, health potions for the guard to help with their hangovers, and poisons for the inn keeper to discourage brawls. 

By the time she left, Orana had a sizable amount of gold and a light hearted bounce in her step. So far everyone she had met in Falkreath had been nothing but kind to her and the prospect of starting over again here was growing less and less daunting. 

As she made her way back to the inn for the evening she passed by a large mountain goat standing near the door to the Jarl’s longhouse, the creature seemed content with not leash or fence and chewed on a nearby thistle bush. Casting a curious glance around the area, Orana tried to find the owner, perhaps the owners of the farm next to the inn had let it out. 

“Don’t worry about ‘im lass.” She heard a voice coming from behind her and whirled around to see the blacksmith leaning against the railing that surrounded his workspace with a large dog at his feet. “He’s a wild one but always keeps watch at the door to the longhouse, no one really knows why.”

Taking a cautious step away from the goat Orana turned back to the blacksmith and regarded him curiously. “Is it really a normal goat then? I’ve heard stories of deadra disguising themselves as animals to trick mortals.” 

The blacksmith laughed while the dog at his feet let out a bark at the sound.   
“Aye, I’ve heard the same stories but that one there is no deadra.” He said firmly, the smile on his face took out any sting that the words could have held for Orana and she found herself returning the grin. 

Walking towards the railing Orana held out her hand to the blacksmith, “My name is Orana, I’ve just recently arrived here.” 

As the blacksmith grasped her arm in return Orana had to keep herself from crying out at the rough grip he gave her, his hand easily wrapped around her forearm and squeezed so hard she could barely return the gesture. “The name’s Lod, you need anything forged you come to me yea? There’s no better smith in the hold.” He said proudly as the dog barked at his feet, “Ah, and this is Ode.” 

Kneeling down Orana reached through the slats to offer her hand to the hound, smiling when he licked her palm and allowed her to pet him. “He’s lovely.” Orana said as she stood.

“Steel is good but loyalty is better, steel will only get you so far in the world but if you have someone to keep your back safe then there’s nothing that can stop you.” Lod looked down fondly at Ode and scratched the hound behind his ears.

Standing back up to look Lod in the eye Orana brushed her hands against the apron of her skirt to rid herself of the dirt that had stuck to her knees. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you Lod, I hope the evening treats you well.” She said formally.

“Aye lass, the same to you.” He returned with a nod his head.

As Orana turned and started walking back to the inn she heard Ode barking and Lod’s happy laughter. Smiling to herself she quickly crossed the street and made her way back into the inn.

Pushing open the door she was greeted by a warm rush of air that smelled of potato stew and the sounds of murmured conversations over the bard’s lute. Closing the door behind her Orana made her way to one of the empty tables that lined the main room and settled herself down. Before she could turn and ask for the server she felt a hand on her shoulder. “You’re going to have the men wrapped around your finger in no time.”  
Turning quickly Orana saw a nord woman carrying a broom grinning down at her. 

“I-I’m sorry?” Orana spluttered, not fully understanding what the woman was saying.

“Pretty face like yours will have the men around here swooning in no time.” She said smugly as she leaned her broom against the wall and sat next to Orana on the bench “We don’t get a lot of new faces, especially delicate little bosmer lasses like yourself.” 

Orana could smell the ale on her breath and stopped herself from getting upset with the other woman, she probably didn’t really understand what she was saying. As she shuffled away from the other woman an arm wrapped around her shoulders and held her in place.

“My name’s Narri and if you need anything,” Narri leaned forward so that she was inches away from Orana’s face “you come and tell me ‘kay?” 

Nodding furiously, hoping to appease the drunk woman next to her, Orana smiled and tried to free herself from Narri’s grip. Why were all the nords she had met so strong? 

“I’ll buy you a drink!” Narri exclaimed from out of nowhere, ignoring Orana’s wriggling in favor of dragging the bosmer woman towards the bar where the inn keeper leveled Narri with the most unimpressed glare Orana had ever seen. Though as Orana twisted to look up at Narri’s face the nord woman was smiling as if she had brought back a grand prize.

“Two ales for me and my new friend here Valga!” Narri said loudly, making Orana wince and the innkeeper narrow her eyes. 

“Are you alright Orana?” Valga asked seriously, Orana was surprised that she remembered her name, though since Orana had used her name to rent out the room she figured it made some sense. 

“I- ah,” Before she was able to stutter out a complete sentence she felt herself being torn from Narri’s grip by roughly hewn hands.

“You’re a magnet for trouble, aren’t ya love-bug?” Leena said as she released Orana gently and put herself between her and Narri. Ignoring the pout Narri sent her way Leena turned to Orana and grinned. “You still owe me an ale love-bug.”

Sighing Orana nodded and pulled out her coin purse, wordlessly trading Valga a few coins for some nord ale and handing it to Leena with a sort of resigned acceptance of her current situation. As Leena grinned, Narri bought her two ales and shoved one in Orana’s hands.

“You’re new here and that calls for a celebration!” Narri exclaimed, leaning against Leena’s side as she cracked open her bottle. Looking up at the guardswoman Orana shuddered at the gleam in Leena’s eyes. 

“You know what love-bug? Narri’s right! Let’s celebrate!” Orana groaned internally as the two rambunctious nord women dragged her back to her table and plied her with ale after ale.

Orana never had the opportunity to drink in large amounts, she had never drank more than one ale at a time, and found that she quite enjoyed the feeling of being drunk. As she leaned onto Narri’s side and giggled at the stories Leena told from her time in the guard, Orana felt her eyelids grow heavy as another bottle was pressed into her hands.

Grinning up at Leena, Orana opened the bottle and took a large swig of the liquid inside. Swaying as a cheer went up around the inn. 

All too soon Narri was slumped against the table while Orana looked around the inn, she saw a plate of sweet rolls on the other side of the fire. Slumping herself into Leena, Orana gave the guardswoman her best puppy eyes. “Up.” She slurred, throwing her arms around the redhead.

Laughing unabashedly at her antics Leena stood and easily picked her up from the bench and setting her gently on her feet. Not quite trusting the young bosmer’s feet to guide her, Leena got up and followed Orana to the other side of the room, catching her before she could sway into the fire a few times. 

As Orana finally managed to stumble to the plate of sweet rolls she sat heavily on the bench and grinned up at Leena. “I got the sweets Leena!” She said proudly, holding one up for Leena as she bit into her own.

Hearing a sad sigh coming from her left Orana turned to see an old man cradling a sealed vase. 

Dropping her sweet roll on the table Orana turned to the old man. “Wha’s wrong ser?” She asked softly. 

The old man looked at Orana and attempted to smile, though he failed to manage more than a grimace.

“I need to get these ashes to Runil but I just can’t bring myself to do so.” He said morosely. 

Orana looked up to Leena with a face of absolute heartbreak, through her own drunken haze Leena thought that whatever was coming next wouldn’t be a good idea.

“We can deliver them for you sir!” Orana gushed, smiling at the old man before looking up to Leena imploringly. Before Leena could remember why that wouldn’t be the best idea the old man had accepted Orana’s offer and given her the vase. 

“Tell Runil that Thadgier sends his regards.” He said seriously as Orana took Leena’s hand and attempted to drag her away. Nodding drunkenly to Thadgier Leena allowed Orana to drag her to the door, catching the sight of Valga covering Narri with a blanket before they headed out. 

The two women stumbled down the hill, Orana was having a difficult time stifling her giggles as she tripped over unseen rocks while Leena tried to clear her head and used her larger size to keep them upright. By the time they got to the House of The Dead, Orana was sleepily murmuring about green pools of jagged emerald and hands strong enough to fight a dragon yet gentle enough to soothe a babe. 

Leena was glad for her distraction due to the fact that the sheer amount of corpses in the hall may have scared the poor lass. As the two women stumbled into Runil’s room Orana gently patted the altmer awake, before the man could even splutter a proper question Orana took his hands and wrapped them around the vase.

“Thadgier wanted you to have this.” She slurred as she righted herself and stumbled out of the room, leaving Leena and a confused Runil in her wake. The two shared a look and Leena broke away with a sloppy salute before following her new friend. 

When she caught up to Orana outside the hall, the bosmer woman was staring at a gravestone and swaying on her feet. Coming up beside her, Leena wrapped a steady arm around Orana’s shoulders. 

“’Ey Leena? I’m s’eepy.” Orana said as she leaned into Leena’s side. “Can we go ‘ome now?” 

“Aye love-bug, let’s get you home.” Leena said as she adjusted her grip around Orana’s waist and started to walk back towards the inn.

“Pffft, ‘m not a love-bug Leena.” Orana scoffed drowsily. 

“Oh? What about your warrior then?” 

“He jus’ felt r’spons’ble for me ‘cause I w’s ‘ice to ‘im in Helg’n.” She asserted, “He doesn’t like me ‘cause I do magic.” 

Leena wondered what sort of magic would be so foul as to put someone off from Orana’s sweet temper. As she dragged the two of them up the hill the sound of footsteps came from Leena’s right.

“Oi, Leena, what are you doing out so late for? I thought you’d be in bed by now.” She looked over to see her partner Sven, grinning at the man she drunkenly held up Orana higher, ignoring the bosmers sleepy protests as the nord man groaned. “We can’t fit another person in our bed Leena, Ole takes up over half the damn thing himself.”

“But she’s tiny!” 

“No!” 

“So you just wan’ me to leave ‘er here?” Leena said archly as Orana whined at her question. Grinning triumphantly as she watched Sven’s shoulders droop Leena stumbled forward to press a kiss into his helmet.

“Alright, alright none of that now.” He said taking Orana from Leena’s grasp and picking the bosmer woman up. “Come on, to bed with the two of you.”

The gentle rocking of Sven’s footsteps were the last thing Orana remembered feeling before she surrendered to all the ale she had drunk and fell asleep.  
~~~

The first thing that came to Orana’s mind when she woke up to a nearly pitch black room was that she was far too warm and comfortable to be at the inn. Her head was pounding and she felt as if her joints had been beaten by a hammer, paired with the texture of her mouth Orana was not enjoying the side effects of waking up.

As she opened her eyes she was greeted by Leena’s face not three inches from her own, the nord woman was still fast asleep and Orana was able to make out the freckles that dotted the older woman’s face. She tried not to think the way she slept with her tongue slightly sticking out was cute. 

A shift of the mattress made Orana turn her attention to the other occupants of the bed. Sven, and another nord that had to be Ole, were curled around the two women, Orana was thankful to note that they didn’t snore. Sven had an arm tucked chastely around Orana’s waist and seemed to wake at her movement as he pulled his arm away as soon as she turned her head.

“Mornin’ lass.” He said groggily, though Orana understood that he was being quiet the pounding in her head made it seem like he was yelling straight into her ears. With a small whimper she brought a hand to her head and covered her eyes as Sven chuckled.

“You ladies must have drank half the inn last night.” The sound of his voice was rousing their other bedmates, Orana heard an agonized moan from Leena behind her and a dry chuckle from Ole “It took Ole and I two days before we figured out that it was best not to drink when Leena’s around, she’s a terrible influence.”

“Why are you yelling?” Leena whimpered, ducking her head under her pillow. The two men laughed quietly making both Leena and Orana groan.

Ole stood and crossed to the dresser, rifling through its contents until he came back with a bottle.

“Drink this, little one,” He said as he passed Orana the bottle “it’s a mix of a health potion and a cure for poison, works real well with hangovers.”

Orana snatched the bottle out of Ole’s hand and chugged it gratefully, sighing through her nose as the potion went to work and rid her of the worst of her headache. As she finished the bottle she saw Ole and Sven rise and start putting on their armor. 

“Time for us to get to work lass, feel free to stay as long as you need.” Sven whispered to her.

“If you can stand Leena’s whining that is.” Ole called out from by the door, cackling as Leena whined and threw one of the pillows at him. 

Struggling to untangle herself from the blankets Orana managed to stumble out of the bed and cast a look towards Leena. 

“Leena?” She whispered to the nord woman, pausing until she heard a grunt “Please do not ask me to drink with you again.” She finished earnestly, standing tall when she saw Leena’s red hair move up and down in a nod. 

Tucking the blankets more firmly around the guardswoman, Orana bid her a quiet farewell and made her way out of the barracks. Dodging the jeers and stares of the other guards as she made her way out to the streets of Falkreath.  
Never in her life did Orana think that the sun was a burden until today. The skies were balefully clear and the sun was shining merrily as if to spite the pounding in her head as she mounted the steps to the inn.

Inside the blessed dim of the inn Orana saw Narri slipping out of her room. Catching her eye Orana made her way towards the nord woman with a question on the tip of her tongue.

“Before you ask; I left some bread and broth in your room for you. On the house, I shouldn’t have encouraged you to drink so much. Valga gave me hell this morning when she told me you didn’t come back after you left with Leena.” She said quietly as she nervously rubbed her arm, “We were worried about you lass.” 

Smiling at the nord woman Orana waved away her apology. “I bunked with Leena last night, we just stumbled around for a bit before going back to the barracks, thank you for your concern though.” 

Nodding, Narri left quickly as she heard Valga calling out for her to sweep near the tables, leaving Orana to turn to her room. Inside was a tray filled with thick slices of warm bread and fragrant chicken broth. As she sat down to eat she went over the events of the previous night. What would her poppa think if he knew that she had spent her first real night in a new town stumbling drunk with a near stranger? 

Shaking her head she finished her meal and feeling a bit better with something solid in her stomach, though not enough to brave the sunshine just yet, Orana kicked off her shoes and crawled into her bed and pulled the covers over her head. Falling asleep quickly as the pounding of her head quieted and her stomach settled.

***

The day Fenris left Falkreath had him cursing the rain in all forms about an hour after he left the village. He could still feel the soft warmth of Orana’s hand against his lips, the smell of mountain flowers that clung to her fingers and the catch of her breath that was almost too quiet to hear.

And cursed himself for being so foolish.

It would be best to keep away from the young mer, when Dararuis finally caught up to him he didn’t want her to be involved. Or worse; have her sell him out for her own gain. 

Even with his thick cloak the rain had soon soaked through and left the fabric cold and heavy. Along with this thoughts about Orana he was in the perfect mood to take care of the bandits on the bridge.

It was disappointingly easy to kill them, though their arrows nearly had him pinned behind a tree for a moment he was able to sneak around and climb the surrounding cliff to get close enough that their bows were ineffective against his sword. After that they fell faster than skeevers. 

Relieving them of their cache and valuables Fenris left the bodies to rot on the side of the road and continued towards the mine, not even minding the extra day of travel he had forced onto himself for detouring to kill the scavengers. Even if that meant slogging through the rain.

The road to Ember Shard mine was fair and held few dangers to slow Fenris down, other than a few stray wolves he ran into little trouble. The rain had died down on his second day of travel, allowing him to dry his cloak and start fires when he settled down for the night. 

After three days of walking and sleeping in trees, he arrived at the location the map detailed. 

The guard posted outside the mine was easily dispatched as Fenris brought his sword down on the Brenton’s head with a wild roar. Stashing all the weapons and armor he had lifted from the bandits and creatures he had encountered over the days in a barrel outside the mine, Fenris opened the door and walked in.

Ember Shard mine smelled of cooked skeever. As Fenris padded through the tunnel further into the mine he couldn’t help but smirk at the recognition. 

The bandits must be close to starving to be eating skeever.

Crouching down as he heard voices coming from the cavern in front of him, Fenris readied his sword and crept forward onto the wooden bridge. There were two of the lowlifes chatting by a fire, oblivious to him as he silently made his way down the ramp. The benefits of wearing all black armor he supposed.

One of the bandits, an argonian man, rose from his spot near the fire and turned towards the ramp. Before he could dry out and warn his companion Fenris shot forward and swung his blade.

Since escaping from Danarius’ leash, Fenris had chosen to keep the weapon his master had given to him. The weight of the great sword was usually enough to break bones and cut an enemy down even if his strikes were not precise. As his blade caught the argonian in the ribs, Fenris heard a grotesque crunching noise and the reptilian man cried out sharply and fell.

The other bandit rose from his seat but wasn’t fast enough to dodge Fenris’ next strike and with a gurgle slumped down in the chair.

The rest of the bandits in the mine fared no better.

Fenris was happy to note that the amount of weapons and armor he had found and collected would be too heavy for him to bring back to Falkreath and sell there. As he sorted out what he had found, he decided to stash what he couldn’t carry in the barrel outside the mine and take what he could to the nearby village of Riverwood.

It meant another two days added to his trip but the coin was enough to make it worth his while, even if he had to deal with another imperial to get it. 

With his pack light Fenris swung back by the mine and collected the rest of his spoils. The trip to Riverwood had been a grand idea, his coin purse was heavy, his pack was light and he had a new great sword of orcish make curtesy of the bandit leader. He had even found an assortment of mushrooms to sell to Orana and a few books he figured she would appreciate. While he couldn’t read himself, he knew that some people valued books over their own lives.

As he made his way into Falkreath he noticed that with each step he felt lighter and lighter than ever before. The village was as beautiful as it was peaceful, there was no denying that though Fenris did not think that was the reason for his light hearted mood. The first thing that came to his mind was the prospect of seeing the kind bosmer woman who called him ‘friend’, the warmth of her smile and the quiet concern she radiated when someone was upset.

Scolding himself for such idiocy, Fenris pushed towards the jarl’s hall. Intending to collect the bounty and sell what remained of his loot.

Rounding the corner blindly he felt something small hit him in the chest with a delicate ‘oof’. Looking down he saw Orana’s startled (and somewhat red) face, she had brought a hand up to rub her nose and Fenris resisted the urge to laugh at her expression.

“You should be more careful when you choose to run into someone,” Fenris smirked as Orana’s eyes shot up to look at him and watched as the blush covered her face “next time it might be best to choose someone not wearing a chest plate.” 

It was his turn to blush when instead of stammering and backing away from him Orana chose to throw her arms around him and pull herself closer as she ignored the blood stains and sharper bits of his armor. 

“You made it back safely.” She breathed, the relief in her voice was enough to keep Fenris from pushing her away. Even if I made his brands prickle uncomfortably. Fenris allowed himself to place a hand on the small of her back and press gently, returning the embrace as much as he was comfortable. 

He had to bite back a flare of disappointment when she pulled away. 

“You’re headed to see the jarl are you not?” She asked brightly, keeping well within his reach.

“Yes, I aim to collect the bounty he posted and stop by the merchant’s afterwards.” He replied stiffy, not knowing how to broach the topic of the things he had picked up for her specifically.

“I was just in to see the jarl myself.” She said bashfully, she seemed to grasp for words for a moment. Fenris stood by and gave her the time she needed to gather herself. “Would you like to join me for dinner this evening? My treat, of course.”

He could not deny the hope in her eyes and the prospect of a free meal was certainly tempting. Though not more so than the company.

“It would be my pleasure.” He said with a small smile as he watched Orana bounce on the balls of her feet and nod.

“I’ll meet you there after sundown then.” She said as she turned and walked down the road towards the cemetery. Fenris shook his head fondly as he saw her nearly run into one of the guard. 

To his surprise the nord laughed and clapped her on the back before continuing on his way. 

He turned back to the door to the jarl’s hall, mounting the steps he pushed the door open and walked inside. The hall was well lit by a mixture of natural light that filtered in from the high windows and firelight from the pit that took up the majority of the hall.

Walking around the pit he headed to where the jarl was lounging in his chair. The man hadn’t even spoken yet and Fenris already wanted to punch the superior look off his face.

As he approached he heard the jarl groan under his breath, narrowing his eyes he stepped up to the man.

“I am here to collect the bounty for the bandits from Ember Shard Mine.” Fenris growled, managing not to sound too impolite but angry enough to discourage any idiocy on the jarl’s part.

“You took care of them then? I assume you were thorough?” The man sighed.

“They are all dead.” Fenris deadpanned. Ignoring the way the jarl glared in return.

“I suppose it’s good someone is useful around here.” He murmured more to himself than to Fenris, snapping his fingers the jarl called for his steward. An altmer approached the throne with a level look on her face.

“Yes my Jarl?” 

“Give this man the bounty the guard set out.” He said blithely, clearly finished with the encounter.

“Of course,” the altmer replied, turning to Fenris she motioned him to her “This way please.” 

She led him into a room off to the side of the hall and dug through a nearby chest. Pulling out a small pouch she tossed it to him, as he caught it he weighed the coin in his hand. 

“Thank you.” He said politely as he turned to leave, the sooner he was out of this place the better.

Once he was outside of the jarls hall Fenris walked to the smithy, hoping to sell the rest of the armor and weapons he had acquired. The man, Lod, was fair in his prices and Fenris walked away a few hundred septems richer. Paired with the money he had made in Riverwood and the bounty he had just received he could probably go anywhere in the country and have plenty left over to settle down for a while.

Or at least until the hunters came.

Shaking his head of such thoughts for now Fenris headed to the inn. Thankfully they had a single room available for him this time and as the imperial lead him there he cast a glance around the main room for Orana. When he did not see her he suspected that she was merely out enjoying the weather and turned his attention to the inn keeper. Waiting for her to leave. 

“Let me know if you need anything else.” The woman said brightly.

Not bothering to acknowledge her Fenris closed his door and started to strip out of his armor. Turning to the basin on the desk he poured the water and washed himself as well as he was able and turned the rest to the bloody pieces of his kit. The blood was dry and flaked off after a bit of heavy handed scrubbing though Fenris wished that he had chosen to wait and gone to the nearby river for such a task. 

When his hands grew sore and his armor was as clean as he was able to reach at the moment Fenris gathered the pieces and set them next to the bed. After making sure his door was locked he settled down to rest until evening.

*** 

Helping Mathies at Corpselight Farm was something Orana enjoyed more than anything since coming to Falkreath. While there were times when she grew sad as she remembered her life with her poppa, for the majority of the experience she was happy to be getting her hands dirty again.

Harvesting cabbage did not pay well but it was honest coin, and Mathies was a fair man. As they worked through the afternoon they kept silent for the most part; Orana had heard from Leena how his daughter had been killed earlier in the month and understood the man’s need for quiet. She had yet to even see much of his wife Indara, the woman tended to wander the cemetery and stand near her daughter’s grave.

As it neared sunset Orana replaced the hoe she had been using to till the soil and bid Mathies farewell for the day, promising to return should he ever need more help. With a handful of coin for her work for the day Orana returned to the inn to clean up a little before her meal with Fenris.

As she washed the days dirt and grime away in the basin settled on a dresser in her room Orana mentally ran through all of the clean dresses she had acquired since she arrived, hoping that her best was clean. Drying herself quickly she opened the drawers and dug though, searching for the garment and with a happy gasp she pulled it out and tossed her work clothes on the floor in her haste to change.

Though by the time she walked out of her room she knew she shouldn’t have worried so much; Fenris was still in his travel worn and blood stained black armor. Sitting at the table closest to the back of the inn the bosmer warrior sat with his back to the wall and caught her gaze as soon as she stepped out of her room. 

Nearing the table she saw two bowls of stew, slices of bread and small cuts of meat already laid out on the table. 

“Starting without me?” She teased as she sat down, feeling her pulse flutter as Fenris smirked at her.

“The inn keeper’s servant dropped all this off before I could even order, she mentioned something about ‘the new girl making men swoon’.” Orana groaned and buried her head in her hands as Fenris huffed out a laugh. She would have to ask Narri to stop with such comments later.

“Narri and Leena seem to have made it their goal to turn me a permanent shade of red.” She muttered into her hands, bringing them away from her face to stick out her tongue at Fenris when he snorted at her. 

“Judging by your face now, they need not try hard.”

Ever since Fenris had opened his mouth Orana’s face had grown to a darker and darker shade of red. Biting her lip nervously Orana picked up her spoon and dug into her meal. Valga was a wonderful cook and her stew was nearly as good as her poppa’s. 

As they ate their meal, Fenris told Orana bits and pieces of his journey to the mine, leaving out the more violent parts in favor of telling her about the landscape and the village of Riverwood. While Orana told him of the shenanigans she had found herself stumbling into with Leena and Narri, blushing madly when he laughed as she told him about waking up with Leena and her partners Ole and Sven. 

“I am glad that you’re settling in and the villagers are treating you well, there are no more bounties in the area so I shall be leaving soon.” He said quietly as they finished their meal. Orana pushed away her bowl and bit her lip, trying not to show how disappointed she was at the news. 

 

“Well,” She started with a pained laugh, “If you think you’ll be stopping by Riften soon I have need of some Black Briar Mead and do not know the way.” 

“Escorting you on one journey was enough.” Fenris growled bluntly, feeling an ache in his chest at her stricken expression he quickly continued “It isn’t safe for someone who can’t even properly wield a dagger to be wandering through the mountains.”

“I have coin to pay you this time Fenris.” She said quietly, ducking her head down. Knowing that her fears hadn’t been misplaced made her stomach churn. Their relationship was no more than one of a now repaid debt. 

Fenris wanted nothing more than to make sure Orana stayed within the relative safety of Falkreath, Riften was full of thieves and corrupt guards. If she survived the trip she would be penniless within moments of stepping inside the city walls. 

Letting out a harsh breath Fenris tightened his hands into fists against his thighs. 

“How much would you be willing to pay for me to fetch your mead?” He said slowly, bracing himself against the cautious look Orana was giving him. As if he was an animal about to bite.

It pained him to know he had earned that look.

“I can give you two hundred now and two hundred when you return.” She said simply, trying to keep an even expression but Fenris could see the cracks in her façade. Nervous, anticipatory, hurt and hopeful. It was a small amount of coin compared to what he could make raiding bandit camps but it was better than nothing.

“Alright,” He said extending his hand across the table and grasping Orana’s arm gently, mindful of his gauntlets. “You have a deal, I’ll set out tomorrow and be back as soon as I have it.”

They turned into their respective rooms shortly afterwards, Orana paced back and forth as she ran through their conversations in her head over and over. Wondering why Fenris would take work from her when it was clear that he tired of her company. 

Across the inn Fenris lay on his bed with his sword propped up next to him, berating himself for submitting to the desires of the other bosmer so easily. Though he was glad that he would spare her from such a treacherous journey herself and the coin would be no hardship either. 

Though he knew that oft times the simplest of tasks could turn into the most complicated outcomes.

~~~ 

This time when Fenris saw Orana waiting for him in the main room of the inn he wasn’t surprised, though he was surprised to see that she had left her hair down. Long strands of wheat colored hair cascaded down to the middle of her back. Fenris felt his mouth dry as his hands itched to run through the silken gold strands. Ignoring the impulse he nodded to her as they exchanged quiet ‘good mornings’ and set out together to the edge of town. 

A delicate sprinkle of rain was falling in the pre-morning light, casting the world around them into tones of muted gray. 

Fenris found himself walking slowly, dragging their pace to a near crawl as he savored the warmth coming from Orana. The gentle breeze in the air prompted her to shiver through her thin dress and press a little closer to him despite his sharp armor, and he noticed the scent of mountain flowers clung to her even before she started to work with her potions.

As they walked towards the gate Fenris felt something bump against his gauntlets, he felt Orana twitch as she pulled her hand away from his and scowled. Without looking at her, he gently twined his fingers with her own. Ignoring the bright red blush on her face and the heat creeping onto his own. 

By the time they reached the gate out of town the rain had started falling in earnest, soaking through Orana’s dress and causing her to shiver. With her free hand she brought out a coin purse and pressed it into his left hand, keeping hold of his right.

Pulling her closer to him, Fenris bent forward and pressed his forehead against Orana’s. Breathing in the scent of mountain flowers and reveling in the warmth of her hand he closed his eyes for a moment, his chest clenching at the stuttering breath Orana let out.

“Stay safe Orana.” He whispered “Keep inside the walls of the village.” 

“Only if you promise not to get hurt.” Orana whispered back, not wanting to break through the quiet shell they had created as her own eyes closed.

She felt Fenris nod subtly against her and sighed as he pulled away. “I swear it.” He said brining the hand still entwined with his own to his lips and pressing another kiss into her hand. 

Once more Orana watched as Fenris climbed up the hill out of Falkreath.

Once more Fenris struggled not to look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got really out of hand, golly!
> 
> Please let me know if there are any gross mistakes and just so you know there are probably hundreds of Ole, Sven and Lina jokes, they're basically the norse equivalent to knock knock jokes and I couldn't help but include them as characters.
> 
> Ole is pronounced Oh-lee 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Orana found herself feeling strangely muted after Fenris had left the village once more, it was as if there was a cloud settling over Orana’s mind. It was strange since her acquaintance with Fenris was still so new and they had not really allowed the other to get to know them in the scant few days they spent together. Though without the promise of seeing him the next morning, Orana was at a loss on her walk back to the inn the morning Fenris left.

As she reached the inn, she noticed that her dress was soaked through. Rather than rushing to her room for a change of clothes, Orana moved to the back of the inn feeling more than a bit lost. Sitting in the corner near the alchemy table, she let her mind wander to what she would do with her life now that she had no other choice but to start a new one. 

With Fenris around she felt almost complacent; as if she did not need a path because one would be put in front of her. Get to Falkreath alive. A simple enough plan, and she had done that with Fenris’ aid. It had been the same way with the inn keeper in Helgen; wake up, start the fires, cook the stew, care for the guests and even with her Poppa, there was always a path she was allowed to follow with the help of others. 

Though now all those paths were gone. 

Lost in her thoughts, Orana failed to notice the old man from her drunken night out approach her. 

“’scuse me miss.” He croaked out, causing Orana’s head to snap up in surprise. A sudden awful feeling washed over Orana as she realized that she didn’t even know the man’s name after carrying the remains of one of his family members to the House of the Dead. Though the old man didn’t seem to mind as he smiled down at Orana.

“I spoke to Runil just the other day and he told me of your visit.” He chuckled as Orana groaned lightly, resisting the urge to bury her face in her hands as her cheeks grew red.

“I am so sorry sir, I should have told you immediately that I had delivered the ashes.” She babbled “Or better yet; I should not have drunk so much in the first place.” she finished with a downward glance. There was a tension growing in the base of her throat making it hard to breathe. 

The old man laughed, it was a lighthearted sound and the look on his face made Orana think that he was surprised to hear it. “It’s alright miss, best to find your limits and then blast past them while you’re with your friends rather than when you’re alone.” 

“I suppose you’re right sir,” Orana mumbled, feeling the tightness in her throat ease just a bit before remembering she still had no clue what the old man’s name was. “Oh! I’m sorry! I never introduced myself, my name is Orana, sir.” She added quickly, sticking out her hand. 

“And Thadgier is mine,” He returned, grasping Orana’s forearm in a firm yet gentle grasp. Orana was grateful for his restraint due to the fact that she had a few bruises on her arm from her introduction to Ole and Sven. Nords were unfairly strong, she thought as they broke off, resisting the urge to cradle her arm closer to her chest.

“I have something for you Orana.” Thadgier croaked as he dug a hand through the pouch tied to his left hip. “A small token of thanks for your service.” He passed her a small pouch and as soon as Orana felt it in her hand she gasped. It was full of coin.

The pouch weighed nearly the same as her coin purse did now and Orana felt her eyes go wide at the realization of just how much was coin she had been given for such a small task.

“Sir, this is far too much!” She insisted, trying to pass the pouch back to Thadgier, though he kept his hands in his lap.

“Keep it.” He said bluntly, his decision clearly made. Orana made a small helpless noise in the back of her throat and lowered her hand, stashing the pouch in an inner pocket of her dress. 

“Thank you sir.” Orana said with a small bow causing Thadgier to smile and chuckle a little.

“You bow to no one, young lady, it’s good to have such a gentle soul in these parts though. People like you can be hard to find in Skyrim.” He murmured and with a nod he turned to the nearest table before opening a bottle of ale. Returning the nod, Orana scurried back to her room to secret away the coin she had been given, it was far too much to carry around on her person.

After changing her dress inside her room, Orana moved to the hidden compartment in one of the side tables were she could store her coin. After making sure the door was shut tight, she sat down on the bed and started counting all she had earned since arriving in Falkreath. The small pile of gold in front of her made Orana remember how grateful she should be that her Poppa had decided that it would be her job to keep track of their stores. She remembered learning to count and add numbers from her Poppa while keeping tally on a small sheet of paper. 

Sorting the gold in front of her, Orana noticed that she had collected a fair amount of coin in her short stay. Taking away what she would need to keep her room at the inn and for food for the week she was left with nearly seven hundred cold pieces. 

With a slightly choked squeak of surprise she counted again, just to make sure. Neat little stacks of coins littered her bed, fourteen piles of fifty. 

She could not remember a time when she had so much money to her name.

Grinning, Orana packed up her gold, keeping enough out to pay for her room for the night and securing the rest in her pack and hiding it under the bed. Any local thieves would know of the dresser compartment and she was not willing to risk such a large amount of coin. Though as she shoved her pack back beneath the bed she realized that no amount of careful hiding would deter a skilled thief, hopefully they did not cling to Falkreath and lived in the richer holds.

After she paid Valga for the room Orana could not stop the loose ended feeling from returning to her. Idly digging through her alchemy pouch she wondered what she would do after she could no longer find ingredients close to Falkreath, perhaps Leena would be willing to go with her further into the surrounding forests. 

Outside of the inn, the rain had died down just enough to make a walk possible without getting soaked through a second time. Picking her way carefully down the street, Orana wandered around the village, unsure of what she should be doing. She could return to the inn and experiment with more potions, though Zaria had jokingly threatened to throw Orana from the shop if the bosmer kept taking all of her coin. Valga already had Narri as an assistant at the inn and there was not enough work to be done at the cemetery to justify another groundskeeper. 

Orana quickly found that she hated feeling so adrift.

As she meandered past the guards barracks, a roar of pain sounded through the street, alarmed Orana causing her to whirl around looked for the source. It had come from the guard’s training grounds.

Trotting along the wall, Orana peeked around the entrance to see what the matter was. She recognized the nord currently kneeling with his arm cradled close to his chest, as Leena’s partner Sven. The black of his hair was mattered against his forehead with sweat and his face was twisted in pain. From her spot near the entrance, Orana could see a bit of blood streaming down the man’s arm while the other members of the guard heckled him.

Carefully walking forward, Orana approached the group of nords. “Excuse me.” She called, trying to sound confident, though she was not holding much stock in it. 

As she expected though, the group of guards turned to her as she made her way closer to them.

“Trouble?” The one closest to her asked.

“N-no, actually I was wondering if you needed help.” She replied, turning her attention to Sven as he looked incredulously at her. “I can do a bit of healing if you’d like.”

Sven grinned and settled down on the ground, holding his arm aloft towards Orana.

“If you could I would appreciate it lass.” He said earnestly. The other members of the guard formed a circle around the two as Orana placed her hands just above the wound. Closing her eyes to help her focus, she remembered what her Poppa had told her about healing magic; to envision a light full of warmth, good intent and golden purity.

She only knew a very basic spell but the guards that surrounded her were shocked at her casting, they had never seen a healing spell that let off such a golden light. Sven looked up at the bosmer woman in wonder, he could feel the wound slowly closing as the strain showed on her face.

For her part, Orana was almost totally drained by the time the spell tapered off, she never had much chance to practice and her magika pools were nothing in comparison to the mages that had stopped by the inn back in Helgen.

“I’m sorry,” She said, her breath heavy and her face covered in a thin mask of sweat “I can’t do much more than that.”

Sven tested his arm, it was still tender but the wound was completely healed. In fact, his entire arm felt better than it had since he broken it during a bandit attack. Smiling at his healer Sven shook his head.

“You couldn’t have done better lass, thank you. I owe you a drink now.” He grinned at the groan Orana let out at the mention of alcohol. 

“It was nothing, really, please don’t offer me ale and don’t tell Leena you offered either.” She begged, causing the guards around them to laugh. Orana wondered just how many of them had drunk with Leena before. 

“If you don’t mind me asking lass, would you be willing to help us out in the future?” One of the guardsmen asked. 

“N-no sir, I don’t mind at all and I-I’d be happy to help…what would you be needing?” She responded quickly, trying her best not to trip over her words.

“A healer to take care of the injuries we get during training.” The guard said with a chuckle. “These idiots get more hurt doing drills than they do fighting bandits and bears!”

The other guards all complained at the description but when Orana looked over to Sven he nodded his head with a very serious expression, gesturing to his arm as proof. Hiding a smile behind her hand Orana waited for the gathered guards to settle down. With a final yell the leader of the crew called for silence.

“If you don’t mind a novice, I would be happy to help.” She repeated, not sure what else to say. The guard nodded and took off his helm.

“My name is Donnic, I’m as close to a guard captain as we have here.” He said with a smile, holding out his arm for Orana to grasp. Bracing herself she returned the gesture and was surprised when the guard proved to be very gentle. 

“I am Orana and I’m very new to the area.” She replied. 

“Where are you from then?” One of the other guards asked, Orana turned from Donnic to look him in the eye. Or what she thought to be his eyes, as his helmet obscured his face.

“I came here from Helgen.” She said quietly, and for a moment no one moved. 

“Are the rumors true then? Was Helgen really attacked by a dragon?” Donnic asked urgently, bringing Orana’s attention back to the brunette.

“Yes, I was unconscious for most of the attack though. If it wasn’t for Fenris I would be dead.” She told him. Donnic’s face grew pale and he seemed shaken though he did not stumble or more noticeably concerned. 

“Right then, we’ll keep the patrols tight and if anyone sees any sign of a dragon we’ll alert the jarl and move from there.” Donnic said, turning to the gathered guardsmen and women. “For now, let’s be thankful we have a healer to keep you idiots on active duty.”

The guards all groaned, making Orana and Donnic grin at each other. 

The next two days were full of guards coming in and out of the inn to see Orana for their scrapes and, in Ole and Sven’s case, open wounds. 

The two guards were always friendly, to the point where Leena had come in to Orana’s room while she was healing a particularly nasty bruise on Ole’s ribcage and accused her lovers of bedding Orana without her. The situation had ended with Orana turning so red she felt that she could heat the room with her cheeks and Ole laughing so hard he found that he had cracked a rib, rather than merely bruising it.

Though they all provided Orana a brief respite from the quiet uncertainty that plagued her, as soon as her friends in the guard left the feeling would always return. 

As she sat at one of the tables closest to the alchemy stand one day, finished from an afternoon of healing the different guards and villagers that wandered in with various woes, she tore small bits from a sweet roll and munched on them idly. Unaware of her surroundings she failed to notice a nord coming towards her table until he moved to sit down. 

He smelled of ale, both old and new, and while his clothes were fine they had certainly seen better days.

“Did you know lass? I was Jarl once, but I was encouraged to step down when I took sides with the Stormcloaks.” He rambled loudly, Orana was in a mild state of shock. This was the first time she had been cornered by a drunk patron in Falkreath, or ever really. Sliding further down the bench, away from the older nord, Orana kept her eyes on the man and hoped he didn’t notice her trying to leave. 

“It was an Imperial plot, I tell you!” He finished with a gulp of ale. Freezing as he turned his attention to her, Orana tried to think of something to help her distract him.

“Y-you say there’s a plot against you?” She asked quickly, doing her best to look interested even as she felt around for the end of the wooden bench they were seated on.

“Not against me.” He said in a matter of fact tone “Against all of Falkreath. Those Imperial bastards are spying on every one of us.”

Orana wondered vaguely why he was speaking so loudly, almost yelling, if he was so concerned about spies.

“Last night I saw Lod the blacksmith writing a letter. Probably sending word to Solitude and General Tullius.” All of a sudden he leaned in towards Orana, his height making it easy for him to stretch to the other end of the bench where she had almost been able to slide off completely. There was a determined gleam in his eyes that Orana decided she wouldn’t end up liking. “Are you loyal to Skyrim Elf? If you are, break into Lod’s house and get that letter.”

Reeling backwards and nearly falling off of her seat Orana shook her head frantically. 

“Oh no sir! I love Skyrim dearly but I can’t do something like that, I need to go.” She insisted, standing quickly and moving away from the table, unintentionally cornering herself between the wall, alchemy stand and table. 

The old nord stood and loomed over her, his eyes were hazy yet completely focused on Orana as she tried to back further away only to hit her back against the wall. 

“If you’re not for Skyrim and the safety of her people you do not truly love her.” The nord said lowly. Orana felt her throat tighten and her heart start to pound in her chest, it was as if she could not get enough air. Through her own mounting panic she almost missed what the nord was saying. “If you do care about the safety of the people of Falkreath and all of Skyrim you will get those letters and make sure they don’t hold information that could threaten the people!” He finished with a hiss. 

Feeling the blood drain from her face, Orana nodded shakily. It seemed to satisfy the nord man and he took a step back. “I’ll be waiting for the letter lass, I’ll even give you a small reward for your efforts.” He told her before going back to his pilfered table, leaving Orana leaning against the wall for support while she tried to keep her breathing even and her heart to calm.

As she stumbled out of the inn and across the street towards Lod’s house a feeling of numbness settled over Orana, she could feel every painful beat of her own heart and the strain in her lungs from trying to get enough air but her mind was a haze of calm.

For a moment she thought she heard Narri call out her name but Orana did not pause as she mounted the steps. 

Crouching down in front of Lod’s door Orana checked to make sure it wasn’t already open before digging in the inner pockets of her dress for a lock-pick. She had always kept at least one on her person after she had locked herself out of her room back in Helgen and needed to have the innkeeper pick the lock to let her back in. 

The lock into Lod’s house was blessedly simple and Orana quickly slipped inside, unaware of Narri running to get the guard. 

The inside of the house was neat and filled with simple furniture, and seeing that Lod was nowhere to be seen Orana stood up from her crouch and made her way to the bedside table where she quickly found the letter the old nord had spoken of. Hoping that it held the information that the old nord wanted Orana took the letter and stuffed it in her dress pockets. 

It was times like these where she wished she could read.

There was a buzzing sensation in the back of her mind as she exited the house and made her way back to the inn. The old nord man was still seated at the same table with empty bottles of nord ale surrounding him. Walking up to him slowly Orana held out the letter for him to read.

“Huh, what’s this?” He slurred, grabbing the letter from her hands and reading over it quickly, his face settling into a bored expression. “Ah, well here’s the reward I promised you.” 

Breaking from her shock for just a moment Orana was blindsided by the ache in her chest and the tightness in her throat once more. “What do you mean, are the people of Falkreath in danger?” She asked shakily.

“What? No, this is just a letter asking for more iron.” He said as he handed Orana a small pouch of coin. The clinking of the coins was drowned out by the roaring in Orana’s ears as she nodded to the nord man and turned towards her room.

Back in her room, the door tightly closed, Orana stumbled to the bed and quickly collapsed in on herself. The overwhelming feeling of pain from her throat and chest made it impossible for her to breathe or call out. In her mind, she knew that nothing was wrong though the rest of her seemed to think otherwise.

Tears bit at the edges of her vision and soon she was choking out a sob. 

There was no sense of time as she lie there on the bed, trying in vain to get a hold of herself. In fact the more she tried to stop the tears and take a breath the harder it was. Her head was pounding, making the light in the room unbearable as she buried her face into the covers.

A banging at her door startled Orana out of her misery.

“Orana, open the door!” Leena barked out. With a choked sob Orana got to her feet and stumbled to the door, her vision blacking out for a moment as she stood.

Opening the door Orana fell forward into Leena, trusting the nord woman to hold her up and true to form as soon as she saw the bosmer falling her arms shot out and grabbed her. 

Shaking and pale, Orana looked up expecting to see Leena’s face only to be greeted by her guardswoman helmet. The sight of it brought another wave of misery over Orana as she tried to fill her lungs with air only to fail.

“Orana?” Leena adjusted her grip on the elf and brought her back into her room, “Have you been poisoned?”

“No.” Orana’s voice was little more than a small whimper, “I just can’t, I can’t…” 

“Shhh, it’s alright love-bug.” Leena soothed, guiding Orana to sit on the bed while she took off her helmet. “Just breathe with me now, in four, rest one, out four, rest one.”

Gasping in a breath, Orana tried to keep time with Leena as she counted. She was lightheaded and panic had lodged itself firmly in her aching chest, with a whimper Orana slumped forward and put her head between her knees. As Leena placed a gentle hand on her back she felt some of the tension in her throat loosen. 

“Please.” She whispered, pressing into the contact. She felt Leena pause, the guardswoman seemed to weigh her options before she felt arms wrapping around her. The angle felt awkward and Leena’s armor was cold, but it helped ease the pain and made her feel safe.

As the guardswoman rubbed soothing circles into her back Orana felt the air come back into her lungs, with a final shuddering sob she leaned forward into Leena and felt her muscles go lax.

“Are you okay now love-bug?” Leena asked softly, still running her hands in gentle circles on the bosmer woman’s back. 

“I don’t know what happened, I was just so scared for a moment and I didn’t know why.” Orana breathed, she was too exhausted to try and make better sense at this point though Leena just nodded and held her tighter before letting go completely.

“Is it because you broke into Lod’s house?” Leena kept her voice gentle as she looked her friend in the eye, she was confidant she would be able to tell if Orana was lying to her.

“I think it was more the man who asked me to than the act itself, is that bad?” 

At the news of another person involved, Leena saw an opportunity. 

“Who asked you Orana?” Her tone was still soft but held a sense of urgency to it.

Startled my Leena’s sudden change in demeanor Orana sat back a little.

“An old nord man, he was sitting in the corner of the inn when I come into my room. He smelled so terribly of ale Leena! He just sat down next to me and started telling me that the people of Falkreath were in danger and that I needed to prove my love for Skyrim by stealing Lod’s letter. I was scared but I didn’t want to have the people here think I didn’t care for them. You’ve all been so kind to me, I don’t want to see any of you hurt!” Feeling her heart rate pick back up as she spoke Orana curled back into Leena and tried not to let her breathing falter.

For her part, Leena was silent while Orana got ahold of herself. She knew who had put Orana up to the theft and smoothing over the situation would be difficult but not impossible. Gently lifting the bosmer woman’s head so that their eyes could meet, Leena smiled at the other woman.

“All can be well Orana, we’ll just have to be a bit more clever than I’m used to.” Leena said with a wry grin, winking at Orana when her face grew puzzled. 

“There’s a place I’ll need to you to go for the time being,” Leena explained “The man who told you to break into Lod’s house is one of Falkreath’s thanes, his name is Dengeir and he was once a proud and honest man. Though if he’s coercing people to do his dirty work I’m not too sure if that remains to be the truth.”

“As thane, he’s basically exempt from most petty crime but with some clever pokes in the right places, we can get him to admit to putting you up to it and bring you under his shield so to speak.” Leena explained, smiling widely at the growing look of hope in Orana’s eyes.

“You’ll need to stay out of sight though while we do this, just in case some of the other guards don’t agree and try to put you away for theft. Are you with me so far?”

Orana nodded, sitting up a little and giving Leena what she hoped was a brave look. Satisfied that she was listening, Leena continued.

“Up in the mountains just a bit to the south there’s a cabin. A woman named Angi lives there, she’s not the most trusting of sorts all things considered but she owes me a favor and you’ll be welcome there when you tell her I sent you.”

“Where is this cabin then?” Orana asked quietly, her breakdown had left her feeling weak and tired though she pushed the feelings away in favor of listening to Leena’s scheme.

“As I said; up in the mountains, about three days from Falkreath. You’ll go out the east exit towards Helgen for about a day before you get to the abandoned homestead Pinewatch, then turn south and cross the river. There should be a path up the mountain there. Follow it until you reach a path with two stone markers, and knowing Angi; animal traps. Her cabin will be at the end of that path.” As she spoke, Leena rose from her crouched position near Orana and handed the elf her backpack. 

Catching on quickly Orana packed her warmest clothes (her only clothes), her bedroll and the food she had bought that morning. Carefully tying on the bracers Fenris had insisted on and shouldering the pack Orana presented herself to Leena, ready to go.

“I should be going then right?” She asked timidly, holding her arms out for inspection. Leena’s eyes narrowed and she turned to the dresser behind her, grabbing the dagger and sheath that rested on top.

“It will serve better than nothing my friend.” She said as she handed Orana the dagger.

With a resigned nod Orana took the dagger and secured it to her belt. 

“Right then, let’s go.” Leena declared, opening the door to the main room of the inn and dragging Orana out by her hand.

As they made their way to the edge of the village Orana did her best not to show too much of her apprehension, lest one of the villagers call out for the guard. 

Thankfully, Sven was stationed at the Eastern exit. Wiggling his fingers as they approached. He soon realized the gravity of their situation as Leena told him to cut the gesture with a sharp motion across her mouth.

Right near the gate Leena spared Sven no time as she whirled around to face Orana and grab her by the shoulders.

“Alright love-bug you remember what I told you, yeah?” Leena asked severely. 

“I do.” She replied softly, trying to look unafraid and obviously failing if Leena’s face was anything to go by, though the other woman did not question her.

“I’ll come and get you when the time is right so just stay put until I do, okay?”

“I trust you Leena.” Orana said in reply, watching as Leena bit her lip and blinked rapidly a few times. 

“Go on then, get out of here.” The guardswoman said, turning away from the bosmer and going back into the heart of the village. 

Taking a deep breath, Orana walked out of the village, giving Sven a weak ‘Goodbye’ as she passed and received a confused nod in return. The story would spread to the village as the day wore on she was sure, he would know sooner or later. 

It was near midday when she set out though the weather was fare and the roads clear darkness was soon falling over the forest. 

Orana found herself feeling grateful that Fenris and her had passed along this same road on their way into Falkreath, if not she would not have known where to bed down for the evening. The bandits that had been stalking the area near the bridge were gone and she passed under with no trouble. Orana even found the campsite near the pond they had used before.

Checking the edges of the pond for mudcrabs, Orana quickly settled down and started a small fire, the forest was far lonelier without Fenris by her side. The way the wind howled through the trees and the rustling of movement throughout the underbrush made it hard for her to relax. 

The night air was cold and she could feel the chill creeping over her as the fire died down for the evening. Curling up in her bedroll, Orana tried to push her thoughts in brighter direction; she thought of her Poppa and their farmstead, of how the sun looked as it rose over the fields and how their cows were always happy to see her in the mornings.

She thought of Spending evenings with her Poppa, making up stories and learning to cook for herself. 

As she drifted closer and closer to sleep her mind wandered to other things, her first day at the inn in Helgen, the first potion she made, the first time she made a patron smile. The first time she met Fenris.

Some guests had been giving her a hard time and he had come up to the counter and roughly pushed them aside, sparing them no attention as he turned to her.

“Are you alright? Did they touch you?”

She could still hear the quiet concern in his voice, the way that it rumbled and scraped warmly across her senses. 

Though she wasn’t fully able to realize, the sound followed her into her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to xxElectricPheonixxx for being my fabulous beta! If not for her I would have probably given up on this fic so yay her!


	5. Chapter 5

Fenris keeps his gaze resolutely forward as he climbs the hill out of Falkreath. The rain is coming down heavily and making it difficult not to slip on the cobbled stone of the path but he knows himself well enough to realize that if he stops and turns to see Orana behind him he would be lost. He would find some excuse, some reason to stay and run out of coin and allow the hunters a place to catch him. It was better to keep moving even as the rain soaks through his armor and hair. Fenris considers going back to the village for a moment to await better weather though he disregards the thought almost immediately and pushes on.

No distractions.

The rain refused to let up throughout the day, the constant buzz the water made against the leaves of the trees was soothing but it forced Fenris to remain on edge since it would be harder to hear someone coming up from behind him. The gray of the clouds made the day darker, by midday it appeared to be closer to nightfall than not. It was a blessing that Fenris was sheltered from the wind by the forest that surrounded him, if he had to deal with the wind alongside the rain he may have turned back to the village and started another day, consequences be damned.

As night settles in over the forest, Fenris comes upon the abandoned house. He had passed on his trips back and forth from Falkreath and meant that one of his preferred campsites was close by.

Sloughing through the rain up the last few feet of hillside Fenris came upon the clearing he had been frequenting this past month. He could still see the scuffs and charred wood from his last stay, though thankfully no one else seemed to have visited the camp.

The pond was close to overflowing, Fenris picked his way around it carefully as he searched for mudcrabs, not wanting to fall in on the slight chance that another one of those foul creatures surprised him. 

At least there was no one around to see if there were this time, though the levity Orana’s laughter had added to the situation would not be unwelcome this time. The rain and dark clouds were an oppressive weight on Fenris’ mood, merely one day in and he was already hating the trip. 

Sure that there was no impending threat of mudcrabs Fenris removed his cloak and wrung it out as best he could from under a nearby tree. Once the majority of the water had been removed he carefully tied the cloth between two of the boughs above him, creating somewhat of a barrier between him and the continuing rain. It wasn’t the best solution he had considering that if the rain didn’t let up he’d be stuck with a soggy cloak, heavy with water and useless for warmth, though it would serve well enough to keep him dry.

Sitting underneath his makeshift shelter with his sword in his lap Fenris leaned idly against the rough bark, waiting for sleep to come over him. The rain had turned from a grating crackle to a soothing cadence against his fears of ambush though he found that sleep would not be easy to come by on this night. Rolling his neck he spotted a collection of stones near the edge of his shelter and reached forward to grab as many as he could. Drawing a finger through the loose dirt around the tree roots and placing the small stones within the lines. An idle way to pass the time, he placed the stones in a rough outline of a lone wolf, head thrown back to howl at the moon, Fenris knew only that his own name meant ‘little wolf’ and he found the creatures to be admirable. If the name had not been forced on him Fenris may have enjoyed the likeness more. 

A voice nagged in the back of his mind, lone wolves rarely survived long without a pack. With that thought in his head and the wolf drawing standing guard over the camp Fenris found himself drifting into a light doze. Hopefully with the coming morning the rain would stop.

XXX

The next day had Fenris rising quickly and sparing little thought other than to get to Riften as quickly as possible. He would finish this job for Orana and be done with Falkreath hold. If he stopped and rested at the camp he had first brought Orana to and found himself missing the sight of her gathering thistle, that was no one’s concern but his. Gathering missed bits of mountain flowers and mushrooms had nothing to do with the woman, he would sell them in the next town for some extra coin. At least that was what he told himself, and if he saved the plants to sell to a certain bosmer that was his business. 

The uphill path to Helgen was tiring on under normal circumstances, paired with the lack of sleep Fenris had gotten the past two nights, the hill seemed more a mountain. It was possible to get to Riften without going through the corpse of a village but going around would add an extra day at least and some morbidly curious part of Fenris wanted to see what had happened to the village in the aftermath of the destruction.

The smell of ash and charred meat reached Fenris before he could even see the gate, making him choke on his own breath before he pushed on.

Mounting the last few feet, he passed through the western gate and took in what used to be the village square. The towers had collapsed and blocked the road though the village, there piles of rubble and debris scattered around the square and he could see a few immolated corpses littering the area. A wave of grief for these people swept over Fenris, he had not lingered here long before the dragon but the villagers had been kind to him, given him work and always greeted him more warmly than he could ever expect from a nord village. Unsure whether it was a good thing or not to be unable to recognize the faces of the corpses Fenris moved towards the town.

Passing under the arched gateway carefully, Fenris kept an eye out for any scavengers. Helgen was the center of a lot of trade between Cyrodiil and the rest of Skyrim, making it the prime location for bandits to set up camp once it was abandoned. The keep alone made it worthwhile and if any highwaymen decided they wanted to settle down most of Skyrim’s guards would have trouble pushing them out to rebuild.

He thought of the innkeeper’s son and a few of the local farmer’s children as they had run through the square, their laughter ringing throughout the village. A bitter tightness worked it’s way into Fenris’ throat. These people had not deserved such an end, he could only be thankful that none of the charred bodies littering the square were small.

Fenris made his way through the square, mindful not to step on any of the corpses that littered the ground, and made his way down the main road of the village. Though as he rounded the remains of the central tower he saw the road was blocked, with a sigh Fenris turned and cast his eyes around the square. After a moment he saw what he was looking for; the inn was still standing but was missing several sections of wall and hidden behind the rubble of the two surrounding towers.

Heading into what remained of the building, Fenris realized with a start that he was currently standing in what used to be Orana’s bedroom. He could still see the blood on the beam from where it stuck her.

The tightness in his throat traveled down to his gut at the sight of her blood as he moved further into the room. Cursing himself for his softness Fenris forced himself to focus and look around the room with a more analytical eye. Most of the room was still intact save for the wall and the collapsed ceiling though the second floor ceiling kept the room sheltered. Spotting a dresser Fenris picked his way over the remnants of the ceiling and opened one of the drawers. There were a few soft dresses in greens and browns and a book tucked carefully away under them.

Fenris silently dithered for a moment. He could take the contents of the dresser with him and present it to Orana when he returned, she was sure to be grateful even for the thought of it. Though the extra weight and space it would take up in his pack would mean he could carry less loot. The image of Orana drowning in the oversized tunic pilfered from the bandits came to him and he swallowed thickly. She had only the clothes on her back when they had ran, if he could restore even a few of her belongings it would be the right thing to do.

“Kaffas.” Fenris hissed as he roughly took off his pack and started loading it with Orana’s belongings.

Picking up the book he flipped through the first few pages to see drawing after drawing of different plants. Some were drawn together with a circle around them while others had crude skulls drawn next to them. Fenris quickly realized these were alchemy recipes, Orana had drawn each plant he had brought her and paired them with the plants needed to make various potions. There was no actual letters in the book but it was laid out clearly enough that even without the ability to read, Fenris could follow along perfectly.

Smiling, Fenris packed the book away and continued his rifling. As he continued to search the small room he found a pair of plain gold rings with mountain flowers carefully etched into the sides, they looked like the wedding bands favored by nobles. They were old and well worn but well taken care of, he had found them at the bottom of the dresser, hidden away in a small bundle of linen cloth. It was clear to Fenris that they were both sized for elves, one even smaller than the other, possibly belonging to a woman. 

He wondered how Orana would have gotten her hands on such things but put the question aside for now. There was a chance he could ask her once he returned to Falkreath. The only other thing he managed to find in her room still intact was a small bag of coin. There could not be more than a hundred gold there but he would return it to her anyway. He was more than able to make or steal his own coin, he did not need to take from someone who could not easily replace it. 

Shouldering his pack once more, Fenris started to comb the inn for anything of value left behind. Better he take it than someone less than savory. Kicking open the door to the main portion of the inn, Fenris kept himself on guard as he started his search, he had not yet thrown away the possibility of there being bandits, or worse; hunters, roaming about.

By the time he had finished digging through the rubble and remnants of the inn, the sky had grown dark and the wind turned cold. Moving to the western end of the inn Fenris collected small chunks of broken furniture and started a small fire, positioning the logs to burn as long as possible and stacking a healthy supply next to the small flame. With any luck any would be bandits would head towards the fire and cause some noise before they found Fenris in Orana’s room, giving him an opportunity to slip away or cut them down. Her room was off center from the main hall and was not the most likely place to sleep in the inn, making it the best place to settle down for the evening. At the very least it had three walls and a bed.

Fenris was struck by the silence that permeated the town, there was no signs of wildlife as the night settled in. Not even bugs to feast on the charred corpses or be drawn in by the light of his fire. The wind had died down, and silence hung heavily over Fenris had he felt the need to remain absolutely still in order to preserve the quiet. It was eerie.

Just as it came the feeling left, prompting Fenris to pause and make sure his sword was within reach as he shook out the covers on Orana’s old bed. Fenris paused and kicked the frame a few times, surprised to see that it still held strong, the walls of the inn were in shambles but most of the furniture remained. It showed that if anything nords were able to build reliable dressers and beds. 

The noise from his activity seemed deafening in the surrounding silence while dust and ash were thrown into the air as he finished his task, reminding Fenris of the dragon’s fire. Suppressing a shudder at the memory Fenris turned from the room and made his way quietly around the inn once more, just to make sure of his safety.

After making sure the area was clear Fenris double checked the flame and returned to Orana’s bedroom, the fire he lit on the other side of the inn would give him enough warning should anyone think to sneak up on him while he slept. Setting his sword next to the bedframe Fenris laid down and considered the his actions during the day; he could have kept moving, he could have passed through Helgen with barely a sideways glance and yet here he was.

The bed smelled of ash, death and mountain flowers. Breathing deeply Fenris was surprised to find Orana’s scent still clinging to the fabric, it made him smile wistfully. Even in this place, surrounded by death and rubble she was still able to haunt his thoughts.

On that night nothing disturbed his rest save for the occasional thread of the memory of gentle green eyes, brought about by the faint scent of flowers.

XXX

As dawn broke through the holes in the walls of the inn, Fenris was already packed and ready to go. The fire at the other end of the inn had burned down to cinders and judging from the lack of footprints and the fact that the few coins he had scattered around were still there it was safe to assume that no one had wandered near his camp during the night. Gathering the coins and hiding the evidence of his stay Fenris made his way out of the village quickly. Past the remnants of the alchemist’s shop and pushing through the large wooden gate as the sun rose, the chill biting at his cheeks as Fenris starts to make his way up the pass.

Snow had begun to fall as Fenris climbed the road through the mountain, he was not far from Helgen and could still see the remains of the village if he turned and peered through the trees. Though he resisted the temptation in favor of pushing forward. In recent days he was getting more than enough practice in doing so. 

Not long after he had traveled out of view of Helgen had the skin on Fenris’ neck prickled. Drawing his sword as he rounded the bend in the road he was greeted by the sight of an overturned cart and the bodies of several Khajiit traders scattered around the road, covered in blood. Part of the cart was burning, giving Fenris the chance to see a figure moving behind the cart. With a disgusted growl he charged forward, vaulting over the burning cart and catching the bandit unawares. 

The nord fell with a strangled cry as Fenris brought his greatsword down on his head, alerting his companions in the surrounding trees. Moving quickly Fenris zigzagged up the slope into the tree cover, hoping to dodge any arrows that could come his way. 

Through the trees he could see one of the archers, and with a quick burst of his brands he charged through the brush running the bandit through while the rest of the band ran at him. Ducking under a mace that would have crushed the side of his skull, Fenris tackled an argonian warrior to the ground and brought his sword sharply down between the gap in his helmet. 

Using his sword to lever himself up Fenris pulled his weapon from the bandit’s face and grunted as he was struck by an arrow. One of the few remaining bandits had set up on the other side of the road, a mage and another warrior stood between them. 

Tightening his grip on his sword Fenris ran forward, charging through the mage’s flame and locking swords with the warrior. Cursing the man in front of him Fenris ignored the insults the nord was spitting at him as he disengaged, pivoting around the nord while the mage struck at him with lightning and pushing the warrior into the mage’s path instead. 

With the lightning stunning the warrior, Fenris was quick to bring his sword down on the back of the nord’s head, only to cry out as another arrow embedded itself in his back and a wave of flame crashed into him from the side. Shaking off the shock of the blows Fenris ran through the mage’s fire towards her, he could see the fear in the dunmer woman’s eyes as he charged at her. Protected by nothing but fur rags his sword slipped through her easily. “May the wolves tear you apart.” She choked out at him as he drew away causing Fenris to snort incredulously.

Turning away from the still bleeding mage, Fenris ran up the other side of the road and quickly dispatched the remaining bandit. Rifling through his pockets before making his way back to the mage. 

She was still breathing, albeit shallowly, the tattoos on her face making her seem intimidating but Fenris saw that she was still quite young for a mer. The mage must have heard him coming because as he crouched beside her she opened her eyes and Fenris was startled by the color of them. If green was unusual for a bosmer is was unheard of for a dunmer.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, her voice was small and quiet though it pierced the area that had fallen to silence in the wake of their fight. Fenris could see tears gathering in those green eyes and was struck by the image of Orana, broken and bleeding under him as he carried her from Helgen. 

“We weren’t supposed to hurt anyone,” The mage continued, “We never had before, we just take their coin and let them go. I don’t know what happened, one moment we were getting ready to leave and the next was full of screaming.” 

“Do you think that excuses you from blame?” Fenris said coldly, surprised when the mage shook her head. 

“No, I didn’t want anyone to get hurt but now everyone’s dead so what does it matter? If I could have helped I would but it was over so quickly, we were arguing when you came along.” She smiled up at Fenris, taking him completely off guard “We got what we deserved.” 

Fenris could take no more of this, reaching into his pack he drew out one of the stronger healing potions Orana had given him and pressed it to the mage’s lips. “Drink or die.”

He was grateful when the mage closed her eyes and drank, it was foolish to allow a mage to live after she had attacked him but he couldn’t bring himself to finish her while she was staring at him with such sorrowful eyes. 

Fenris held the bottle as the mage drank, watching as the sword wound on her stomach knit itself together. When the bottle was empty the wound still looked red but it was closed and she would live. Standing from his crouched position next to the mage Fenris left her there and started looting the bodies of her companions and dragging the Khajiit traders off to the side, laying them gently in a row alongside the road. 

He could hear the mage struggling to stand behind him and ignored her for a moment, stowing away a stray book on one of the carts into his bag, he could not read but perhaps he could sell it to Orana along with all the alchemy ingredients he collected so far,

Once he had finished taking what he wanted Fenris walked back to where the mage had finally got her feet under her. Shoving a burlap back of food at her he pointed down the road towards Helgen.

“The road is clear that way and Riverwood not far from Helgen, stick to the road and you’ll be fine. If I hear of you stealing from people ever again I will hunt you down and take off your head mage.”

 

“Well that seems excessive.” The mage mumbled as she took the bag. “And what if I don’t want to go to Riverwood?”

“Then you will receive no help from me.” Fenris bit out, turning back to the pass and pulling the arrows from his shoulder and back, hissing as he started walking further up the road, content to leave the mage next to the smoldering ruins of her crime. 

Until he heard footsteps following behind him. 

“What do you think you’re doing mage?” Fenris growled as he turned to face the dunmer woman behind him.

“I’m just walking.” She said innocently, “And my name is not mage, I don’t want to go to Riverwood so I thought I’d go to Riften instead.” 

“No.” Fenris said curtly, ignoring the indignant squawk behind him as he turned and continued up the path. Yet still the footsteps echoed his own. 

Fenris was resolving himself to ignore the mage and continue his journey in silence, though it seemed after a few minutes of walking the mage had other, more inane, ideas.

“So what’s your name? I can’t just keep calling you ‘Grumpy’ in my head, my name is Merrill.” 

“My name is of no concern to you.” Fenris said tiredly. 

“That seems like an odd name.” Merrill hummed while Fenris groaned, trying to ignore her for just a little longer. 

Throughout the day as they traveled along the pass, Fenris was peppered with annoying little questions. “Why do you glow when you fight? Why are you so grumpy? Do you like salmon? What is your real name?” At one point they passed a patrol of Thalmor soldiers and even as Fenris pulled his cloak tighter around himself, hoping to mask his brands, he half wished to tell the Thalmor who he was just so they would remove him from the mage’s presence. 

In the two days it took to go through the pass, Fenris had plenty of time to regret his decision to spare the mage. Merrill had insisted they camp together, ‘To keep safe and warm!’, and interacted with every person they had come across on the way. 

The road out of the pass was splashed with dozens of rich color and sound. The cold frigid air of the mountain had given way to the clean warm air of the forest that now greeted them. Though as Fenris was turning around to yell at the mage a half starved wolf came out of the forest and bit through his leather leggings. 

With a startled yell Fenris unsheathed his sword and jolted when the wolf was hit in the side with a blast of flame. Forcing the creature to let go of his leg and allowing Fenris the room to bring his sword down on the beast. 

“When I said I wanted the wolves to tear you apart I didn’t really mean it.” Merrill said seriously, a worried frown settled on her face. 

“What are you talking about?” Fenris growled as he readied his sword for the other parts of the pack that were charging at him. 

“When you stabbed me I told you I wanted the wolves to eat you.” Merrill replied calmly, casting a bolt of lightning at the wolves and killing one before it reached Fenris. “I didn’t really want the wolves to eat you, I was just angry at myself for getting hurt.” 

Killing the remaining wolf with a final swing of his sword Fenris stumbled over the corpses of the animals and hobbled down the path, acknowledging Merrill’s response with a hum. They had run out of healing potions on the mountain path and Fenris could feel blood soaking the insides of his leggings from where the wolf had bit him. Pain bit at him each time he took a step though he grit his teeth and kept walking, there had to be somewhere where they could stop and rest for awhile. 

“Grumpy, are you alright? You’re limping…” Merrill’s concerned voice came from behind him, Fenris did not even bother to turn around to speak to her this time. 

“I have had much worse, mage. Until we find somewhere to rest for a bit I will be fine.” He replied tightly, he was leaving a faint trail of bloody footprints behind him. 

“Are you sure? I could try healing-” 

“No.” Fenris cut her off with a dark look before turning back and moving forward, keeping his eyes open for any sign of shelter. 

Three hours later he was rewarded by a small shack tucked away near a rock face. 

Without a word Fenris stepped off the path and headed towards the shack, listening as Merrill trailed after him. He could sense nothing ill in the area, and approached the cabin cautiously. Drawing his sword Fenris rounded the entryway and saw nothing, feeling only a little foolish he sheathed his sword and started rifling through the cabinets for anything useful.

“Grumpy here!” Merrill’s lilting voice was closer than he expected and before he could react a small healing potion was shoved in his face. 

“Ah, thank you mage.” Fenris said honestly as he took the bottle, quickly downing the contents and savoring the bitter taste that made the bite on his leg cease aching. 

“I keep telling you my name is not mage it’s-”

“Fenris.”

“Well that’s not my name either!” Merrill yelled exasperated by her grumpy travel companion.

“No, it is not.” Fenris agreed, a sly smirk on his face.“It is mine.” 

Merrill paused for a moment, taking in what had just happened before squealing in delight and throwing her arms around Fenris.

“Oh I knew you weren’t always grumpy!” She said ecstatically while Fenris stood stock still, allowing Merrill a moment before peeling her off of him. 

“Do not hug me again mage.” 

“Oh for Azura’s sake!” Merrill lamented.

And to her surprise, Fenris laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait and the incredible amounts of exposition in this chapter. I've not been really motivated to continue this fic due to the lack of response but I had another burst of 'screw it! this is for me!' and was able to finish this chapter. 
> 
> Merrill is very fun to write and I hope I haven't butchered her character too much thus far. 
> 
> I'm very thankful to all the people who've been sticking with this story, at least someone may be enjoying this ^_^'

**Author's Note:**

> Okay sooooo...
> 
> I'm putting my other fic on hiatus because I want to rewrite the whole bloody thing. 
> 
> I've finally found a method of writing that allows me to convey more of what I see happening and I've been playing an unhealthy amount of Skyrim recently so why not combine the two? Please let me know if you think the characters are too OOC!
> 
> you can read Deena's fic here;
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2546423/chapters/5661242


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